


Affairs of the Heart

by Dazzlious



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-07
Updated: 2017-02-07
Packaged: 2018-09-22 13:24:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 46,737
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9609314
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dazzlious/pseuds/Dazzlious
Summary: A love story spanning decades, transcending life and death . . . just what our protagonists wanted!





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from JK Rowling’s fantastic books or films, I’m just borrowing and playing with them for a little while and get no monetary reward for doing so. 
> 
> A/N: Obviously this story is AU. If you put aside the fact that Snape didn’t die in the final battle, Jo has outlined the jobs the trio did after leaving school and Hermione didn’t become a Potions Mistress, although I have tried to keep most things canon-related where possible. Also, we know Snape didn’t really invent the Wolfsbane potion, either . . . but he probably could have done if he hadn’t been too busy being the Dark Lord’s right-hand man. Enjoy the story! Dx

 

The older woman sat beside the bed, dozing as she held tightly to the hand of the man who lay there. Around her the young nurses looked at her fondly every so often as they worked, impressed by her devotion. She was no trouble and they were pleased that the man in the bed had company for what were likely to be the final few hours of his life. Suddenly, there was a gasping sound from the bed and the machines surrounding the man began to erupt in a clamour of noise. The occupant was having another attack. The lead nurse rapidly left the room to locate and contact Healers as the woman jerked awake at the cacophony around her.

‘We need to move you, dear, so we can work on the patient,’ one of the nurses told the woman, who had risen from the seat and was leaning over the dying man, stroking his face as tears ran down her cheeks. She was murmuring something but the nurse couldn’t hear what she was saying. ‘I’m sorry, love,’ the nurse continued as she moved the woman away, putting her at the foot of the bed where she could still watch but wasn’t in the way.

A moment later the Healers arrived and they worked quickly to get the man stable again. For a moment it seemed to be touch and go, but eventually, the Healers were happy that they had done enough and began to drift away, back to whatever they had been doing previously.

‘I think it’s time she was sent home,’ Healer Barnabus told Nurse Tavistock quietly. He indicated the woman who was once again leaning over the man, silent tears dripping from her face.

‘But, sir, her husband’s dying. You know it’s not going to be much longer. Surely there’s no problem with her staying here until he does. No one minds her being in here, really they don’t.’

The Healer looked at the young nurse. ‘He’s not her husband, Nurse. Mrs Weasley is merely a former pupil of Professor Snape’s, although I understand they were work colleagues for several years. It would be highly irregular to allow her to stay.’

‘But he doesn’t have anyone else, does he?’ Nurse Tavistock asked. ‘And she clearly cares for him. I just don’t see any harm in it when he has no one else to share his final moments.’

‘It’s against hospital policy,’ the Healer replied stiffly. ‘Only family members are allowed to be present at the patient’s death. Now, please stop arguing and arrange for her family to come and take her home.’

Nurse Tavistock looked unhappy but knowing she had no choice after the ultimatum from the Healer she left the room to do as he asked. Healer Barnabus looked at the woman, who was now talking quietly to the patient. He knew she wasn’t doing any harm but rules were rules and Professor Snape deserved a little privacy for his final moments on earth.

‘I’m here, Severus,’ Hermione crooned as she stroked Snape’s forehead gently. ‘Can you hear me, my love?’ she continued. ‘Don’t leave me, please.’

The grey-faced man looked at her with rheumy eyes full of pain. He gave what could have been a small smile or a grimace.

‘Hermione . . . .’ His voice was a deep rasp.

‘Shhhh, don’t talk, love,’ Hermione said. ‘You need to get your strength back. You’re going to be fine.’

Snape slowly shook his head. ‘Please, Hermione . . . let me go.’ He closed his eyes for a moment, then with great effort re-opened them.

‘No! Please . . . Severus,’ Hermione cried in terror. She wrapped her arms around him, holding tightly as she rocked him. ‘Don’t leave me. Please, Severus, don’t die!’

The nurses attempted to pull her away from Snape; his breath rattled and his pulse was thready. Hermione gripped his hand like a vice, refusing to let go despite all attempts to remove her.

‘Mrs Weasley, you have to let go and leave the room,’ the Staff Nurse said bluntly as she peeled Hermione’s hand from Snape’s and began to pull her across the room towards the door. ‘Professor Snape is dying and you are not a relative. I have to ask you to leave. Please, have some respect for the patient and come quietly.’

‘No!’ Hermione replied equally forcefully as she glared at the nurse. ‘I will _not_ leave him now. He’s my lover and I need to be with him. He wants me here.’

Snape called for Hermione, his wrecked voice sounding painful as he begged for her. The Nurse sighed and gave in to the dying man’s request, releasing Hermione’s arm and allowing her to return to him.

‘I’m here, my love,’ Hermione said soothingly, knowing that the time left was short. ‘I won’t leave you again, I promise.’ She bent and kissed him gently on the lips.

‘Never said I love you,’ he whispered, forcing the words out.

‘It doesn’t matter,’ Hermione said, sobbing. ‘I knew you did.’

The man nodded. ‘More than the world . . . more than life.’ He coughed, his chest rattling.

‘And I love you, too, Severus,’ Hermione told him, her voice breaking with emotion. ‘For eternity.’

Snape smiled and his claw-thin hand reached out to grip Hermione’s tightly. ‘I love you, my beautiful Hermione,’ he rasped.

His eyes closed.

‘Severus? Severus!’

The machine he was attached to showed no sign of movement. Severus Snape was dead.

Hermione looked round, tears streaming from her eyes again.

‘He’s gone,’ she told the Staff Nurse, who had come to check the machinery. ‘It was time.’

Hermione leant over and gave Snape one final brief but tender kiss on the lips before turning and heading for the door. Her legs went and she felt herself fainting.

‘Here, let me help you,’ one of the young nurses said worriedly, and she helped Hermione out into the corridor and into a chair. ‘Stay here and I’ll get you a cup of tea,’ she said kindly. Having checked Hermione was all right and intending to leave her alone only briefly, the nurse went to get the drink.

A few minutes later she was back. ‘Your husband and children will be here shortly,’ she told Hermione, handing her the teacup and saucer. She sat down with the older woman to wait with her.

‘The Professor was a good friend of yours?’ she asked interestedly once Hermione seemed calmer.

Hermione smiled wistfully. ‘He was my teacher at school, a work colleague for many years, and my lover for the last fifty-four.’

The girl looked shocked. ‘You were having an affair for over fifty years?’

Hermione nodded, a small smile crossing her lips. ‘Yes, I loved him very much.’

‘But why didn’t you get a divorce? Marry him instead?’ the nurse asked with interest.

Hermione gave a sad smile. ‘I don’t think he would have wanted to get married even if I had been prepared to. I had a husband and family. I couldn’t just give them up. I do love them, too, you know.’

‘But—’

‘Love is a strange thing,’ Hermione told the girl. ‘I’m not at all sure we would have been together as long if we had got married.’ She laughed wistfully. ‘He was such a snarky bastard but I loved him so much.’

‘I hope I find someone that special one day,’ the girl said honestly.

‘I hope you do, too,’ Hermione replied, her eyes sparkling with tears again.

‘There you are. We’ve been looking all over for you.’ A woman’s curt voice rang angrily through the corridor. ‘What are you doing here, anyway?’

The nurse saw a smartly dressed middle-aged woman with red hair walking quickly down the corridor, an older man trailing in her wake.

Hermione looked up at her daughter. ‘I came to see Severus.’

The woman’s mouth pinched into an unhappy line but she didn’t say anything. The man sat down next to Hermione and put his arm around her shoulder, pulling her into a hug.

‘How is he?’ he asked.

‘Dead,’ Hermione replied tonelessly. ‘He died about fifteen minutes ago.’

Ron hugged his wife tighter. ‘I’m so sorry, love,’ he whispered.

‘Shall we go home, then?’ Rose’s tense voice broke the silence. ‘I do have other things to do, you know.’

Ron looked at Hermione. ‘Are _you_ ready to go?’ he asked gently.

She nodded. ‘Yes, he’s gone now so there’s no point in staying here.’

Ron helped his wife up and the two of them made their way slowly down the corridor with their daughter walking along angrily beside them.

The nurse couldn’t help but think that if she had a daughter that rude and ungrateful she would be happy to give her up for love.  


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay in posting the remaining chapters. My internet crashed after posting the prologue and I couldn't get it back. Here's the rest of the story. Dx

_This is how it started._

Hermione was visiting her old school, ostensibly to see the Potions Master to discuss work she had been doing for St Mungo’s, but she also looked forward to taking a look at the old place to see how much it had changed. It was ten years since she had left school, having decided to re-sit the year she had missed due to helping Harry in the final battle and the aftermath of the war. Even with her learning disrupted by those slight distractions she had still managed to get top class N.E.W.T.s in every subject.

While Harry, Neville, and several other members of their year had gone straight into the Ministry of Magic to train as Aurors rather than return to school and Ron had decided to help his grieving brother George run the joke shop in Diagon Alley, Hermione had chosen to complete her studies, and after leaving Hogwarts she had gone on to further education at the Salem Witches Academy in America where she studied Advanced Potions, soon securing an apprenticeship with a Master almost as good as Professor Snape.

She had briefly considered asking her old Potions Master for a position at Hogwarts, he having returned to teaching the subject after Professor Slughorn’s retirement, but since the end of the war the man was more taciturn and ill-tempered than ever — his tolerance of her had always been grudging at best — so she didn’t really give it much serious consideration.

By twenty-two she had become a Potions Mistress and returned to England, accepting a place at St Mungo’s. This was shortly followed by marriage to Ron, who by then was working with Harry at the Ministry of Magic and to whom she had been engaged for several years. Hermione and Ron both enjoyed their careers and spent a couple of years ignoring Molly’s pleas for a grandchild but eventually Hermione fell pregnant and gave birth to a Weasley daughter, Rose. This didn’t affect her ability to work, although Ron disapproved.

When the second child arrived eighteen months later — a boy, called Hugo — the cracks in their marriage had begun to show. There had been several screaming arguments during which Hermione refused point blank to give up her job completely to look after the children. The couple eventually made up but there was resentment on both sides, always simmering just beneath the surface, ready to erupt at any time, and while they did still love each other they became distant, each preferring to spend their precious free time away from the other, not wanting more arguments.

Ron spent most of his time going to Quidditch matches with Harry. Harry, too, had married and had children, and sometimes it seemed that his relationship with Ginny wasn’t much better than Ron and Hermione’s. Hermione, for her part, spent her free time researching, conversing with others from within the Potions world and writing lengthy articles for various Potions journals.

It was this independent research combined with her work at St Mungo’s that finally led her back to Hogwarts and the snarky Potions Master, after she discovered a trail that she believed could provide possible improvements to the Wolfsbane potion Snape had invented. She knew she would need to collaborate extensively with him if there was to be any chance of improving the potion, and it was a somewhat daunting idea. But they had been conversing via owl for almost six months now and Hermione finally decided to take her courage in hand and go visit the Potions Master so they could collaborate further.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Hermione smoothed down her robes as she reached the door of the Potion Master’s classroom. She was excited at the opportunity to finally discuss her work face to face with the potion’s creator but had to admit to being rather nervous at the same time. Being back at Hogwarts had already brought the memories flooding back, none more so than this corridor and the classroom she was on the verge of entering, where for so many years the teacher she was about to see had terrorised her and her two best friends merely for existing.  She gave a nervous laugh.

_Get a grip, Hermione_ , she chided herself. _You’re not eleven any longer. You’re almost thirty and a respected Potions Mistress, an equal to Severus Snape. Now, stop quailing and get knocking._

Her hand reached out and rapped on the door loudly and confidently. She fixed a smile on her face and opened the door without waiting for a response.

Hermione thought back to the last time she had seen Professor Snape. It was ten years before, the year she left Hogwarts, when he, along with the other remaining members of the Order of the Phoenix, were given their Order of Merlin medals at a grand award ceremony at the Ministry of Magic. The Potions Master had made it patently clear that he didn’t want to be there. His scowl was as fierce as ever, worsened by the huge and livid scar that ran across his face, a gift from a Death Eater during the final battle. He didn’t stay very long at the after-ceremony party.

Of course, even then he had been barely civil to her and her friends, but after seven years of him as their teacher they expected nothing less from the man. She just hoped he would be somewhat friendlier now she was visiting as a colleague rather than as an ex-student.    

Professor Snape was sitting where she had seen him so many times in the past, behind his desk scanning a pile of parchments, his quill making quick strokes on the page as he worked. He sighed as he looked up and indicated the pile of essays.

‘The dunderheads seem to be getting worse every year. Even Longbottom could be considered a genius compared to some of these students.’

He put down the quill and stood. His scowl wasn’t as bad as Hermione remembered it although the scar across his face was. She realised that he must be making an effort to be nice to her.

‘Miss Granger, shall we go somewhere more comfortable to talk?’ Snape asked politely.

Hermione nodded and followed him towards the door to his study. She thought momentarily of the jars of bugs and other less savoury things that Snape kept in there and gave a small smile. Only Potions Masters could feel comfortable in that room. She was surprised to find that they didn’t settle in the study. Instead, Snape took her through another door that led to his private quarters. Hermione was fascinated. Whilst at school she had often wondered what the teacher’s private quarters were like, and now she was finally going to find out.

As expected, the dungeon room was gloomy although there was a fire in the grate and candles burned in sconces on the wall. The dark effect was added to by the furnishings, all dark greens and blacks with just a hint of silver. The Slytherin house badge emblazoned upon several wall hangings reminded anyone who happened to be in there that Snape was the head of Slytherin House. Near the fire were two large green leather wingback chairs and a small table.

Hermione glanced around. A proliferation of bookshelves lined the walls and there were two more doors leading from the room. One, slightly ajar, clearly led to the bedroom, which looked as if it was decorated in a similar fashion to the lounge. The other was tightly shut; a private laboratory, possibly? Hermione realised that her host had summoned tea as a house-elf appeared with a pop, carrying a large tray. It placed the tray on the table and then Disapparated, leaving the two of them alone once more.

‘Please sit down, Miss Granger,’ Snape said politely as he indicated one of the chairs.

Hermione sat. ‘Actually, it’s Mrs Weasley,’ she told him quietly, ‘although I do still use my maiden name professionally.’

Snape scowled. ‘So you did it, then? You married that idiot Weasley?’ He paused for a moment, then, ‘I shall continue to call you Miss Granger.’

‘You can call me Hermione,’ she said, smiling. ‘After all, I’m not at school any longer and we are colleagues. May I call you Severus?’

Snape scowled again and didn’t say anything but eventually gave a curt nod, which Hermione assumed signalled his agreement. She smiled again as she watched him pour the tea.

For a long time they discussed the potion. Hermione was pleased that Severus was willing to give credence to her ideas and, in fact, actually seemed excited by some of her areas of thinking. It was stimulating to be involved once again in a lively discussion in which she needed to use her brain, and also to be appreciated for her talent. Now that she was talking to him professionally, Severus didn’t seem quite as ill-tempered as she remembered him being. In fact, he was actually quite entertaining although still fond of scowls and sarcastic comments.

After the work was out of the way the talk turned more social. Snape enquired politely after Molly and Arthur and even talked about Harry and Ron and their jobs at the Ministry of Magic. In turn, he told her about what had been happening at Hogwarts, and before Hermione knew it several hours had passed.

‘It’s almost time for dinner,’ Snape said, looking at the clock. ‘Are you staying at Hogwarts for the night? If you are, I would be happy to accompany you to the Great Hall.’

Hermione shook her head. ‘No. Professor McGonagall did offer — even suggested I sleep in Gryffindor Tower like old times — but I’m afraid I have to get back. I have children to look after.’

‘Children? I suppose we’ll be seeing them at Hogwarts soon, will we?’ Snape seemed to shudder at the idea. ‘Another generation of Weasleys and Potters to suffer.’

Hermione laughed. ‘Don’t worry, Severus, you’ve got a while to go yet. The oldest, Rose is only four, the youngest, Hugo is two.’

‘Time enough for me to retire, then,’ Snape said with a scowl, but his voice was light and bore no malice. He looked at Hermione intently. ‘Does your husband have no objection to you working when you have children to raise?’

Hermione looked a little sad. ‘We argued about it . . . lots. But I wasn’t willing to give it up. To be honest, it hasn’t made things any easier. Ronald really does believe I should be happy to sit at home looking after the children like his mother did. He just can’t understand that I _need_ to work. It’s probably selfish, I know, but I can’t stop.’

She trailed off before she got upset. Her relationship with Ron, always at a critical level, had almost reached breaking point when she announced she was going to Hogwarts to see Snape, the person her husband still, although for what reason Hermione had no idea, apparently disliked most in the world. That was the main reason she wasn’t staying overnight, a compromise to try to keep her marriage together.

‘Well, I have to admit I’m pleased that you didn’t give up work, Hermione,’ Snape said, his dark voice soothing. ‘You have a rare talent and it would have been a shame for it to be wasted on children.’

Hermione blushed at his words, the nicest he had ever spoken to her. She just wished she didn’t feel the urge to burst into tears. Severus would never understand why she was crying and he wouldn’t be sympathetic. Any respect she had gained would be lost in an instant. She forced a smile.

‘Oh, I intend to keep working for a long time yet.’

‘You’re not going to have any more children? Not trying to rival Molly and Arthur, then?’ Snape’s voice was just slightly mocking.

Hermione shook her head. ‘No, I don’t think Ron and I will be having any more children.’

_You’d have to actually have sex for that to happen,_ a little voice in her brain said, _and let’s face it, Ron hasn’t been interested since you told him you were going back to work._

With her mindset in a different place now, Hermione sighed. When Snape looked at her curiously she remembered where she was and stood, trying to cover her embarrassment. Snape stood, too. 

‘I should go, Severus. Thank you for agreeing to see me, and for the interesting conversation,’ she said quickly, taking his hand to shake it. His grip was firm, his hand rough and calloused from years of potion making. She looked at his long, lithe fingers.

She gave a small giggle, louder than she realised, suddenly feeling a teenager again. Snape looked at her in confusion and Hermione blushed. Seeing his hands had reminded her of a fantasy she used to have about the Potions Master back when she was at school, during a brief period when she had harboured a secret and very shameful crush on the man.

Although he couldn’t be considered handsome by any stretch of the imagination, he did have that dark and brooding quality so prevalent in the male heroes of the Muggle books she had read at the time — the Heathcliff factor, she called it — although of course, Snape also had an evil tongue to match his scowl and would probably have put her in detention with Filch for the rest of her life had he even suspected her comparison or her desire.

Still holding his hand, Hermione looked at Snape appraisingly. He had aged since she had last seen him. Not really surprising as he was almost fifty. His black hair now had the occasional streak of steel grey running through it and he had softened a bit; he had some meat on his bones rather than being the tall, almost painfully thin man she remembered. Yet his face was, if anything, less lined now than it had been during the war. The stress of being a spy had made him look ten years older then, and now that he could relax he had lost a lot of those wrinkles.

Of course, he still had the huge scar across his face, which did nothing to improve his countenance. No doubt the high-necked black frock coat and white shirt, the same uniform he had worn for as long as she had known him, covered up the other scars, the ones he had acquired when Voldemort set his snake on Snape to kill him. But all in all, Hermione thought, he was better looking now than he had been when she was at school. Or maybe she had just grown up and was no longer interested in a man just because he looked good.

_What do you mean, interested?_ the little voice in her brain asked wickedly. Hermione dropped Snape’s hand, blushing even more. God, she had been considering him in terms of being a lover and all because his hands brought back childish memories.

‘Are you all right, Hermione?’ Snape’s voice held just a touch of concern.

_No, I’m not all right,_ she thought. _I allowed myself to get carried away with a stupid thought, and because I’m so desperate for sex — yes, I admit it, I miss having sex — it’s translated into sudden desire for a well-known snarky bastard who I shouldn’t even be having those thoughts about and who wouldn’t be interested even if I did._

‘Hermione?’ Snape’s voice was more worried now.

_Calm, just be calm,_ Hermione’s little voice told her. _All you need to do is say you’re fine and leave; no harm done._

Snape’s hand gripped her arm; he was looking at her closely. As Hermione looked at him in return their eyes met, his as dark as she had ever seen them.

‘I want to go to bed with you, Severus.’

Hermione went cold and she closed her eyes for a second. The little voice in her head screamed, _What the hell did you just say that for?_

Snape looked at her in surprise — no . . . shock. He was still holding onto her arm.

‘I beg your pardon?’ His voice was smooth and dark and it sent a shiver of desire straight down Hermione’s spine.

She breathed deeply and looked at Snape. It was true, she did want to. Years of inactivity with Ron coupled with the sudden remembrance of her youthful crush welled up inside to unleash her desire. Her hand stroked his fingers where he still held her arm.

‘I want to make love with you,’ Hermione admitted. Her voice was husky now, her desire evident.

Snape pulled his hand away from her arm and moved away from her.

‘Do I have to remind you that you are married, _Mrs_ Weasley?’ he asked coldly.

Hermione shook her head. ‘No, Severus, you don’t have to remind me. I’m perfectly well aware of who and what I am. However, that doesn’t stop the desire.’ She looked at him again and gave a small laugh. ‘I used to fantasise about you when I was at school.’

Snape looked surprised.

She walked towards him until she was standing so close that their bodies were almost touching.

‘I just want to know what you’re like,’ she whispered, ‘just once.’

Snape didn’t say anything. His dark eyes were unreadable.

Hermione moved back again to create a gap between them. She had embarrassed herself and now she needed to get away, but not without one final comment.

‘If you change your mind, you know where you can find me.’

She turned and walked out of the door, not looking back.


	3. Chapter 3

 

The owl hooted as it flew through the open doorway and landed on the table next to Hermione. She stopped what she was doing and took the letter from the bird, then looked around. Hugo was curled up asleep in the dog basket, his favourite place in the world to sleep. Her daughter and the dog were nowhere to be seen.

‘Rose Molly Weasley! How many times have I told you to close the door when you go outside to play with the dog? Your brother could get out and get hurt.’ Hermione’s voice was loud and stern.

A small girl with bright red ringlets ran into the room, a large chocolate Labrador bouncing along behind her.

‘Sor-rry! I forgot. Barney wanted to play,’ the child said plaintively, a small frown on her face.

Hermione had to stifle a laugh. Her daughter was so serious sometimes.

‘No harm done this time, as he’s asleep. But please try to be more careful in future, darling.’

The little girl nodded and, smiling now, ran back out the door, the dog following. A couple of seconds later she ran back and closed the door. This time Hermione did laugh.

She turned to the letter. It was from Severus. She realised her heart was beating a little faster. It had been almost a month since her stupid outburst in his quarters and she had been worried that she had ruined her chances of working with him on his potion. If only she had kept her big mouth shut and her pathetic teenage crush under control, maybe he would have contacted her sooner. But at least he had finally written. She just prayed that he had forgiven her and was willing to work with her.

With slightly trembling hands she opened the envelope and pulled out the parchment. She unfolded it and read. It was a short note, concise and to the point.

 

_Hermione,_

_If you are still interested in what you proposed during your visit, please meet me at the Leaky Cauldron at seven o’clock on the evening of Tuesday, 27 October. I would suggest you make arrangements to stay overnight._

_Severus Snape (Professor)_

 

Hermione smiled, her heart now seeming to beat twice as fast. He was interested in her! He hadn’t mentioned working together, but that could wait. This was far more important. She realised she was shaking. Well, she had definitely meant it when she said it, but now she had been away from Severus for a few weeks was she really interested in potentially ending her marriage because of some old schoolgirl crush and a sudden rush of lust?

She shook her head, answering her internal voice. No. At the end of the day she and Ron were going through some bad times at the moment but surely it would only be a matter of time before they were good again.

_But how long, Hermione?_ the little voice in her brain asked. _He doesn’t even hold you anymore, and you haven’t had sex since Hugo was born._

But would sleeping with someone else make things any better? Especially sleeping with Severus, the person Ron hated most in the world.

_Maybe not, but it would certainly relieve your frustration,_ the voice replied wickedly.

Hermione sighed. She knew she should write back to Severus to apologise for being so forward and say she wasn’t interested, then hope he would accept her apology and would still want to work with her.

_But you are interested,_ the voice insisted. _You’ve wanted to know what he was like since you were seventeen, maybe even younger. Remember all those nights when you imagined it was him touching you when you masturbated? Well, now’s your chance to find out. You said just once, and he’s offering exactly that — one night. You know you’ll regret it for the rest of your life if you turn down the opportunity._

_I don’t care,_ she silently replied to the voice. _I love my husband. My offer to Severus was down to nothing but stupid sexual frustration. I’ll write and apologise and hope he will still want to work with me_.

As the door to the kitchen opened to a chorus of noise she put the parchment onto the dresser to answer later, the sudden influx of children, dog and husband taking over her life once more.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Hermione was absolutely furious.

Rose had been playing up at the dinner table and Hugo refused point blank to eat his food at all. Ron, who was apparently “very tired” after a long day at work, was being no help at all. She shouted at her daughter, who burst into tears and turned to Daddy for comfort, and he sniped at Hermione for being horrible. Hugo was screaming and the dog was running around the kitchen barking at all the noise, and Hermione, who could feel a major headache coming on, was sure she could cope no longer.

‘Well, I wouldn’t have to shout at her if you’d just help me, Ron,’ she said crossly. Ron’s sharp words to her had stung and she wasn’t very happy with him at all.

‘If you didn’t insist on working and stayed at home like a proper mother, you’d be able to cope,’ Ron retorted. His face was red, his arms around his daughter as she clung to him, still wailing.

‘This has _NOTHING_ to do with my working, Ronald,’ Hermione shouted. ‘ _Your_ son doesn’t want to eat — as usual — and _your_ daughter, instead of sitting quietly at the table as she’s been taught to do whilst I try to coax him, has decided to be a little savage and play up because she’s jealous of the attention her brother is getting. Instead of _YOU_ doing the proper thing in backing me up and chastising her, you pander to her and make her worse. Stop spoiling her, for Merlin’s sake!’

Hermione glared at her husband, then turned back to her son. ‘Come on, Hugo, be a good boy. Just one spoonful for Mummy,’ she pleaded.

Hugo regarded her balefully.

‘Please?’ Hermione asked hopefully.

Finally, after almost another ten minutes of persuasion by Hermione, Hugo opened his mouth and accepted the spoonful of food, followed by another and another. Hermione gave a sigh of relief. That was one problem out of the way; now she just had to sort out her husband and daughter. By this time Rose was back in her own seat, having happily eaten her meal, clearly oblivious to the argument she had caused. But Ron was glowering, his plate of food still untouched.

‘I’m sorry, but you could help me sometimes, Ron. It’s not just _my_ job to look after _our_ children,’ Hermione said quietly.

‘I work full time, Hermione,’ Ron moaned. ‘I expect to have some calm time when I get home, not the children running around like animals.’

‘They’re children, Ronald. They aren’t going to always sit there quietly, not speaking,’ Hermione retorted, the anger returning once again. ‘Especially when you spoil them so much.’

‘Harry doesn’t have this problem,’ Ron spat back at her.

Hermione snorted loudly. ‘Of course he does. His children are no better than ours. I talk to Ginny, remember.’

‘Well, at least she’s at home for her children. She doesn’t feel the need to work,’ Ron snapped.

‘Of course not,’ Hermione railed angrily. ‘Why would she when she got that huge compensation payout from the Harpies for her injury? I didn’t notice her being so eager to give up her career _before_ she got injured.’

‘But I earn good money,’ Ron grumbled. ‘You don’t need to work.’

Hermione sighed. ‘When will you get it through your thick skull that I don’t work for the money, Ronald? I work because I _love_ what I do. I enjoy the work and it stops my brain from atrophying. You try being stuck at home with kids all day and see how stupid it makes you feel.’

‘Oh, so you’re working so you don’t feel stupid,’ said Ron belligerently. ‘How selfish of you.’

‘No, I’m working because I happen to think I can make a difference to people’s lives,’ Hermione retorted passionately, trying to keep the hurt tone out of her voice but failing miserably. ‘At the hospital I’ve saved many lives because of my potions and my work with Severus—’

‘Severus? Oh, you mean the great greasy git. Oooh, it’s Severus now, is it?’ Ron asked sarcastically.

Hermione glared at her husband. ‘I don’t care that you and Harry don’t like him,’ she said, her voice quiet yet deadly. ‘Regardless of what you idiots believe, he’s a brilliant and talented man, and his Wolfsbane potion is going to save many poor people from years of suffering. It already provides relief from the pain of transformations; look at how he helped Remus. Hopefully with the work we’re doing it will help to stop transformations altogether.’

But Ron wasn’t impressed. He slammed down his cutlery and stood up. ‘It makes me sick hearing you talk of old Snape that way. He’s still a snarky bastard however much _you_ idolise him, Hermione.’

‘He’s a great Potions Master,’ Hermione said simply, ‘and as Aurors you and Harry should understand the value of that.’

She turned to clear a pile of papers lying on the dresser and came across the long-forgotten letter from Snape.

‘Well, you’ll have to look after the children for a couple of days,’ she told him coldly after glancing at the letter. ‘I’m going to Diagon Alley tomorrow: to begin shopping for Christmas, to get some more potions supplies, and to have a meeting with Severus about the potion. I’ll be back on Thursday evening sometime.’

Ron looked shocked. ‘What? You can’t leave me to look after the kids.’

‘Why not? They’re yours, too, and I have other things to do.’ Hermione’s face was set.

‘But I’ve got to work . . . you can’t expect me . . .’ Ron blustered.

Hermione looked at him coldly. ‘Take a couple of days off. I’m sure you could. It would make a change from you going off to Quidditch matches.’

Ron glared but didn’t say anything.

‘Or perhaps you can dump them on your mum,’ Hermione added snidely. Ron looked guilty, his ears turning red. That was obviously what he had just considered. ‘And don’t forget the housework will need doing. It doesn’t clean itself, you know.’

Ron looked unhappy. ‘I’m going out,’ he announced, and soon Flooed to Harry’s house, leaving his meal untouched.

Hermione shook her head and looked at her now quiet children. She hated to admit it, but as much as she loved them she sometimes wished she had never had them.

 

 

* * *

 

 

At ten o’clock the following morning Hermione took the Floo to the Leaky Cauldron after dropping her children at nursery. She sent an owl to Ron’s office to remind him to collect them and also to Molly Weasley, to warn her she was going away for a few days. She explained that she was primarily going to be working but admitted she also needed some cooling off time and said that grandma was probably going to be required to look after the children as Ron didn’t have a clue what he was doing. Molly understood. She was somewhat aware of the troubles between Hermione and her son and was amazed her daughter-in-law had taken so long to crack under the strain.

Grabbing her overnight bag, Hermione threw a pinch of Floo powder into the fire and stepped in, calling out clearly, ‘Leaky Cauldron!’ Not long after, she exited into the large open area of the pub. She looked towards the bar. Hannah Longbottom, an old school friend, was behind it serving a warlock. Hermione smiled and waved, dusted herself down, and picked up her bag. Once Hannah finished serving Hermione went over to talk to her.

‘Hi, Hannah, any chance of a room? I’m here to do some shopping and have a meeting with Professor Snape.’

Hannah nodded. ‘Snape’s already booked his room. Neville wasn’t too chuffed but I told him business is business, and surely by now he can’t possibly be scared of Snape. I mean, they’re both teachers at Hogwarts, for God’s sake.’ She laughed.

‘Don’t you believe it. I’m not sure Snape hasn’t got even more taciturn over the years, although he has to be nice to me now as we’re collaborating on his Wolfsbane potion. At least I hope he has to be nice.’ Hermione joined in with the laughter.

Hannah handed her a key. ‘Room twelve. I hope you don’t mind being put next to Snape. We’ve got a party of dwarves coming later and we’ve tried to keep them together away from the rest of the guests, for obvious reasons.’ She smiled at her friend. ‘I think room twelve is the nicest, actually. It’s quite light and airy with nice big windows.’

‘It sounds great,’ Hermione said.

‘Maybe I should have put Snape in there,’ Hannah mused wickedly.

Hermione shook her head. ‘No, you know he’s a vampire and can’t bear daylight. Sounds like the room would have killed him.’

The two women laughed companionably.

‘Do you need a hand with luggage?’ Hannah asked.

‘No, I’ve only got this at the moment,’ Hermione said as she lifted her overnight bag. ‘I’ll just go and dump it, then I’m going shopping. I expect to have a _lot_ more bags on the way home.’

‘I’ll see you later, then,’ Hannah said, and she moved away to serve another customer.

Hermione put the strap of her bag over her shoulder and walked towards the stairs. 

 

 

* * *

 

 

Just before seven o’clock that evening she headed down to the bar, having stowed a considerable amount of shopping in her room. She had spent rather a long time that afternoon gazing in the window of an expensive lingerie shop in Diagon Alley debating whether to buy something new, as her underwear could be considered more functional than seductive, but eventually she stopped herself. This thing with Severus wasn’t a seduction. It was sex, pure and simple, and she was sure he wouldn’t give a damn what she was wearing. In fact, surely the idea was that she would be wearing as little as possible. No, sexy underwear most definitely wasn’t required.

As she reached the base of the stairs she could see the Potions Master at the bar, where he appeared to be conversing with a rather nervous-looking Neville. Neville glanced over and, spotting Hermione, waved her over with relief.

‘Good evening, Miss Granger,’ Snape’s voice was dark and smooth.

‘Good evening, _Severus._ ’ Hermione gave a small smile as he looked a little annoyed.

‘It’s . . . erm . . . Mrs Weasley, Severus,’ Neville pointed out, his voice somewhat tremulous.

‘I use my maiden name for work, Neville,’ Hermione explained. ‘Although I do keep trying to get Severus to call me Hermione as we’re now work colleagues.’

She ordered a glass of wine and the couple made their way over to the secluded table that had been reserved for them. Sitting down, Hermione opened her handbag and pulled out a sheaf of parchments and started flicking through them as if she were looking for something.

Snape watched her, an amused smile crossing his face. He folded his arms. ‘Do you ever stop thinking about work, Hermione?’ he asked.

Hermione blushed and put down the papers. She must be bad if she was being castigated by Severus Snape, well-known work pedant.

‘I thought we would eat first. I’m sure we’ll have plenty of time after the meal to move on to work issues.’ His voice held just a trace of sarcasm.

‘Really.’ Hermione looked directly at Snape, capturing his dark, glittering eyes with her softer brown ones. ‘I rather thought we had other things to do after dinner.’ She smiled. ‘I’d really like to be finished with work by ten o’clock at the latest.’

Hermione couldn’t fathom the look that Snape gave her at all.

They chatted socially as they waited for their meal to be delivered; general light-hearted conversation about Quidditch and school, never treading near the murky waters of personal relationships or anything just as serious. Once the meal arrived they ate quickly, both eager to move on to work, their supply of social conversation seemingly at an end.

While Hermione went to visit the bathroom, Snape ordered another bottle of wine. Soon the two of them were poring over Hermione’s parchments, so deep in discussion they didn’t notice the room emptying around them.

‘Do you want any more wine?’ Hannah’s apologetic voice broke through the hushed conversation the two of them were having on a particularly tricky part of the potion. ‘Only I’m about to close the bar.’

‘Yes, I’d like a bottle to take to my room,’ Snape said and watched as the woman walked away.

Hermione looked at the clock. ‘It’s almost midnight,’ she said sounding surprised. ‘I can’t believe how quickly the evening’s gone.’

Snape gently brushed her hand. ‘Have you changed your mind?’

Hermione shook her head. ‘No. Have you?’

‘Of course I haven’t.’ Snape’s voice was dark, yet soft.

He walked to the bar to collect the bottle from Hannah as Hermione hurriedly packed away the papers they had been working on. A few minutes later they headed up the stairs toward their rooms.

‘You’re in the room next to me,’ Hermione announced loudly, seeing Neville walking down the corridor towards them. ‘I hope you don’t snore, Severus.’ She smiled at him mischievously.

‘I can guarantee you, Miss Granger, that you will hear no snoring from me tonight,’ Snape replied seductively.

‘Good night,’ Neville said to them both, still seeming a little nervous at Snape’s presence.

‘Good night, Neville,’ Hermione said pleasantly; Snape merely grunted. They continued walking down the corridor, then stood saying their final goodnights as they waited for Neville to turn the corner.

‘Your room or mine?’ Hermione asked quietly. Now that it came to it, her stomach was full of butterflies and her heart was beating so loudly she was sure Severus must be able to hear it.

‘Are you sure, Hermione?’ Snape’s voice was seductive again, sounding so rich and dark.

‘Positive,’ Hermione replied hurriedly. She wanted to get into the room, be in private, not out on public display in the corridor.

‘Your room, then. It was your suggestion, after all.’

Hermione nodded and quickly opened the door, letting Snape into the room ahead of her as she looked around, checking they weren’t being watched. A moment later she followed him through the door, shutting and locking it behind her. They stood looking at each other for a moment before he broke the tension by moving to open the wine. Looking around the room, he located two glasses and poured each of them a decent measure, offering one to Hermione. She took it gratefully and had a sip.

Snape watched her carefully.

Hermione put her bag down by a chair and slipped out of her shoes. She picked up her wine once again and had another sip. Now the time was here, she wasn’t entirely sure what to do. It wasn’t that she didn’t want to do it — she did. The more she had thought about it that afternoon, the more certain she was that she needed this — needed to discover, at long last, what Severus Snape was like as a lover. Yes, it was cheating on Ron, but what he didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him. Anyway, he was hardly likely to find out as they never had sex any longer.

‘You really don’t have to do this,’ Snape said, his dark voice soothing. He walked towards Hermione and took her hand, stroking it gently. He put his glass down; she followed suit.

Hermione smiled at him. ‘But I want to,’ she replied honestly. ‘I’m just not sure . . . .’

Snape’s free hand reached out to stroke her face, his other moving from her arm to slide around her waist, pulling her towards him. In a moment their lips met in a kiss that was sweet and tender to begin with but grew in intensity as Hermione’s arms found him in return. Soon they were locked in a tight embrace, tongues entwined as they kissed.

‘What do you want from me?’ Snape asked Hermione as they headed for the bed, something which took quite some time as they stopped to kiss and undress each other en route.

At first Hermione worried about Severus seeing her naked. She had obviously gained weight since leaving school. Her breasts were no longer as firm as they had once been and she had a belly now after giving birth to her children. However, it seemed he was in no way discouraged by this and in fact voiced his opinion that she had improved tremendously since school.

‘I used to fantasise about you when I was school,’ Hermione admitted once again as they slid under the cool white cotton sheets, still kissing.

‘Tell me about it,’ Snape said as he enfolded her in his strong arms.

And so Hermione told him, getting the anticipated scowl when she compared him to Heathcliff and Colonel Brandon. She was a little surprised that he knew the characters; it turned out he had read many of the classic Muggle novels. He wasn’t anywhere near as angry at the comparison as she had expected he would be, though, and she wondered whether he was secretly pleased to be compared to such figures.

Between kisses and exploratory touches they talked, Hermione gradually revealing her fantasies, Snape gradually fulfilling them. As he had promised, she heard no snoring from him that night, mainly due to the fact that they got no sleep.

When morning came and it was time to go to breakfast Hermione lay, more contented than she had been for a long time, in Snape’s arms. The sex had outstripped any fantasies by a long way and had continued far longer than she had anticipated, leaving her feeling drowsy and sated. She smiled, wondering if she was going to be able to walk later. He might be almost fifty but Severus had the stamina of a twenty-year-old, and she had not had sex that vigorous since before the children came along.        

‘I need to eat,’ Snape told her, releasing her from his arms and climbing from the bed.

Hermione watched him as he walked towards the bathroom, admiring his physique. Even the deep and ragged scars around his throat, visible now without the clothes, didn’t detract from his appearance. As she had found during the course of the night, he was far stronger than he looked, and although he, too, had gained some weight, he was still in very good shape.

‘Are you going to come to breakfast?’ he enquired mildly, looking over at where she lay as he buttoned his shirt some time later, once he emerged from the bathroom.

Hermione stretched. ‘I’m not sure I can be bothered to get up. I’m knackered.’ She grinned.

‘You could go back to bed afterwards,’ he pointed out with a smile.

‘Will you come back with me?’ Hermione asked wickedly.

Snape seemed to consider this for a moment, then nodded his head. ‘If you want me to, for a while at least. I do have some shopping I need to complete before I return to Hogwarts.’

He offered her his hand and she rose from the bed, quickly using the bathroom. Snape left her to it and went to get them a table downstairs whilst she got dressed.


	4. Chapter 4

Hermione’s relationship with Ron wasn’t getting any better. When she had returned from Diagon Alley she had felt much more relaxed. The night and what had turned out to be most of the day with Severus had been just what she needed to get rid of her frustration. By the time she returned home she was in a much better mood and found it easier to cope with her family, finding that two days away had actually made her miss them.

After the trip she and Severus continued working together, generally at Hogwarts as it was easier for them both. It was difficult for Severus to leave the school during term time, although he went to St Mungo’s a couple of times during the holidays. At no time did they ever discuss what had happened between the two of them that night, and they did not let it interfere with their working relationship in any way. In fact, it was as if the whole thing had never happened.

Hermione thought about it often enough, though, reliving the night in her mind every time she had a frustrating and trying day even though she never once considered asking to repeat the experience. It was what it was: one night asked for and one night given. That she had managed to keep Severus in bed for most of the following day was a bonus that added to her memories, the thing that sustained her through the latest rough patch in her marriage. 

Severus was the reason her relationship with Ron wasn’t improving. Already annoyed at Hermione’s continuing refusal to give up work and raise their children in what he considered a proper manner, her work with their ex-teacher on the Wolfsbane potion only served to inflame Ron further. However hard he tried, he just couldn’t bring himself to like the snarky Potions Master and really couldn’t understand Hermione’s devotion to the man after the awful way he had treated them and Harry at school. Her insistence that he was a genius, and his and, therefore, her work was vital to the world, only made things worse. Ron understood the importance of the Wolfsbane potion and knew it had helped many people, but why the hell did _his_ wife have to work on it?

Argument after argument ensued until he and Hermione were spending almost more time apart than they were together. Ron had always hoped for a large family like his own and had seen himself and Hermione in the same vein as his own parents: Molly happy to stay at home and raise the kids while Arthur worked at the Ministry and provided for them all. Of course they had been poor as church mice, but they’d had a happy and loving family. But this hadn’t happened. After two children Hermione still refused to give up work, so there was little point in increasing the size of their family further.

Occasionally, Ron wondered whether he would have married Hermione if he had known she wasn’t going to give up her career, but deep down he knew he still would have done. He had been in love with her for what seemed like forever, certainly since their third year at school, as she had been with him although it had taken him another few years and some stupidity on both their parts to realise it.

He still loved her with all his heart but he couldn’t get rid of his anger at the loss of his dreams. It was driving a wedge between them even though he knew that deep inside he had always known Hermione wouldn’t share his dream of a large family. He knew he spoilt his children, too, favouring them over Hermione, and that didn’t help matters; but these days he felt closer to them than he did to his wife.

 

 

* * *

  


 

Hermione was feeling rather stressed. She and Severus had reached an important stage in their work and needed to brew the new and improved potion, but everything had been put on hold for her daughter’s fifth birthday party. Severus was amazingly understanding under the circumstances. He was aware of the stress Hermione was under at home, and although the potion was his he felt Hermione’s input into the improvements gave her the right to aid him in the brewing process, so he agreed to wait until she was free to assist him.

So Hermione was at home, tearing her hair out as she tried to prepare party food for Rose and a group of friends from playschool whilst keeping an eye on Hugo, who was at the age to get into everything and cause total mayhem. As usual, the dog was under her feet and Ron was at work, although he had at least promised to be home in time for the party.

It was, therefore, a huge relief to Hermione when Molly Weasley’s head appeared in the fireplace offering her help. A few minutes later the older woman joined her in the kitchen and was soon busy organising everything.

‘I’m just hopeless,’ Hermione said ruefully. ‘I can organise my work life but this domestic stuff is just impossible.’

Molly laughed. ‘It just comes easier to some than others,’ she replied sagely.

‘Perhaps Ron’s right and I should have given up work,’ Hermione said despondently as she picked up the mug of tea that Molly had made for her on her arrival.

‘Rubbish. You do very well in your career, Hermione and whatever my dear son would like to think you were never cut out to be a housewife,’ Molly said soothingly. ‘Look at the problems Ginny’s had and she’s at home all day.’

Hermione sighed. ‘I know, but it causes so many arguments. Sometimes I just feel like giving up.’

‘With work or with your family?’ Molly enquired interestedly.

‘Both, sometimes,’ Hermione admitted. ‘I feel like such a failure within my marriage. Ron hardly talks to me anymore because I won’t give up work, and the kids prefer him to me because I’m the stroppy one who tells them off and he just spoils them. And then there’s this thing with Severus. It’s been difficult and stressful work, and without Ron’s support sometimes it just seems too hard.’     

‘But you don’t have a problem with Severus, do you?’ Molly asked.

‘No, he’s been great. Actually, he’s been better than great considering how much he detests my family situation — you know his great love of kids and, of course, he has never got on with Ron. But sometimes I feel as if I’m letting him down. Like at the moment with the party. We’ve got so much important stuff to do on the potion and instead, I’m here trying to decorate cakes.’

Molly smiled. She had already set to work making biscuits and was talking to Hermione as she rolled out the dough.

‘Perhaps you need some time away again, love, a chance to relax and forget about your problems. It worked last time. You came back bright as a button.’

Hermione cringed a little at the comment and hoped she wasn’t blushing. The reason she had been so relaxed after her time away was because of the sex with Severus. But she couldn’t admit to that. 

She sighed. ‘That was just a couple of days of shopping and working with Severus without having worry about home or family or anything. But Ron wasn’t happy about it and made it clear afterwards that he doesn’t expect me to do anything like that again.’

‘Pfff,’ Molly snorted. She was using her wand to mix together the ingredients for several jellies, the moulds already waiting. ‘He was just upset because he had to do some of the work for a change. Has he stopped going away to Quidditch matches?’

Hermione shook her head.

‘No, of course he hasn’t.’ Molly said matter-of-factly. ‘It’s clear you’re happiest when you’re working, Hermione, and not having to worry about the family enables you to work better. So I think you should take some time to do that every so often.’

‘But Ron hates me working with Severus,’ Hermione admitted unhappily. ‘I was going to stay at Hogwarts for a couple of days as we had some important research we didn’t want to break up, but Ron went ballistic. It’s a shame, as I was really looking forward to staying in Gryffindor Tower again. It would have been interesting to see the old place.’

‘Well, if he won’t let you stay away for work then you tell him he can’t stay away for the things he wants to do, either. That will stop his Quidditch trips.’ Molly laughed.

‘Merlin’s beard, no! He’d be even more unbearable then,’ Hermione said, shuddering at the thought. ‘At least when he comes back he’s okay for a few days because he feels guilty for having gone away.’

Molly looked at her daughter-in-law who was trying so hard to get everything ready for the party and her heart went out to her. She knew Hermione had been in love with Ron since she was about thirteen, although it had taken her thick-headed son a few years to realise that he was in love with her and then more to understand her feelings were the same for him.

She knew Ron had always wanted a large family; all her surviving children had been eager to start families of their own except for Charlie, who still showed no sign of even getting married. But surely Ron must have been aware that Hermione wouldn’t give him that family. She was so clearly committed to her work. She always had been, even at school; marrying and starting a family hadn’t killed that work ethic, just given her more stress.

‘Here, let me sort out the cake,’ she said kindly to Hermione, who was making a real mess of the icing. ‘You go and get the lounge ready for the invasion. Is Ron getting Rosie?’

‘Yes, I think he’s bringing them all with the help of Ginny and Harry. I just hope the Muggle games I’ve arranged will be okay. I don’t really know what little witches and wizards do at parties.’

‘I’m sure anything you’ve arranged will be fine, Hermione,’ Molly said with a smile, the cake already looking much better under her experienced hand.

Hermione headed off to the lounge to decorate it fit for the fairy princess her daughter had insisted on dressing as today. She was alone. Hugo and Barney had stayed in the kitchen with Molly in hopes of getting some food. For a few minutes she sat on the sofa enjoying the silence but then she set to work with the decorating.

 

 

* * *

  


 

All hell seemed to break loose as the door opened and twelve youngsters ran through the hall, all screaming and happy. Rose, who was at the front and first into the lounge, stopped dead, looking around the flowery woodland glade Hermione had created. Her friends followed suit.

‘Wow, Mummy! That looks brilliant!’ she said excitedly, and she ran to Hermione and wrapped her arms around her mother’s waist, giving her a big kiss and a beaming smile.

Hermione smiled back, enjoying the rare moment of closeness between her and her daughter, and watched as Ron, Harry and Ginny all entered the room. Ginny was carrying her daughter, Lily.

‘Well done, love,’ Ron said, impressed. He gave Hermione a brief kiss on the cheek.

‘You always were great at spells like this, Hermione,’ Harry said beaming. He caught hold of a child who was running around like a mad thing. ‘Calm down, Albus. We don’t want you being sick or breaking anything.’

‘Sorry, Dad,’ Albus said. Then, grinning, he ran off to join the rest of the children.

Molly joined them in the lounge, bringing Hugo with her. Rose and Albus both ran to her, squealing, ‘Granny!’

Hermione looked at Ginny. ‘Do you want to go to the kitchen?’ she asked, surveying the rumpus.

Ginny nodded and passed Lily to Harry. ‘You two look after the kids for a bit. We’re going for a cuppa. Do you want one?’

With relief Ginny and Hermione escaped to the now empty kitchen, Barney having joined the children in the lounge.

‘I shall be glad when it’s all over,’ Hermione said honestly as she filled the kettle with water. ‘Thank Merlin your mum came to help me out or it would have been a complete nightmare.’

They looked around the kitchen at the food Molly had prepared. There were plates of sandwiches and pumpkin pasties and all manner of sweet treats. In the centre of the kitchen table stood the birthday cake, a dazzling concoction in pink icing covered with fairies and fairy dust, five sparkly pink candles placed in the middle of the ring of fairies.

‘She is a bloody marvel,’ Ginny agreed. ‘I would never have managed Albus’ party without her and I know Fleur feels the same.’

‘But Ron makes me feel so guilty for needing her,’ Hermione said unhappily as she poured boiling water into the teapot.

‘He’s not still giving you grief about working, is he?’ Ginny asked sympathetically.

‘Yes. He keeps pointing out how you’re not working — he conveniently forgets your injury. Actually, Gin, to be honest, it’s got so bad that we hardly even talk anymore.’ Hermione looked upset. ‘And we haven’t had sex since Hugo was born.’

Ginny looked at Hermione in astonishment. ‘You’re kidding! But that was almost three years ago.’

‘I know. He won’t do it because I won’t give up work.’

Ginny gave her sister-in-law a hug. ‘Oh, God, Hermione, I didn’t realise he was being that much of a prick. I’ll get Harry to have a word with him.’

Hermione looked worried. ‘No, Gin, you mustn’t say anything. He would be really angry if he knew I’d talked about it to other people. You know what he’s like.’

‘Not about the sex, although I will get Harry to mention something subtle, but it’s about time he reminded Ron how important your work is,’ Ginny said, shaking her head sympathetically.

She picked up three mugs of tea and carried them through to the lounge for her mum and the men, stopping on her way back to the kitchen to open the front door to admit Bill, Fleur and their three children, who had been followed down the drive by Percy, Audrey and their two daughters.

‘There’s tea in the kitchen if you want some,’ Ginny told the adults. ‘Mum, Harry and Ron are in the lounge with the kids, causing mayhem.’

Bill and Fleur disappeared into the lounge with all the children while Percy and Audrey followed Ginny into the kitchen. Hermione gave the couple mugs of tea, both for them and for Bill and Fleur.

‘Have you considered stopping him going to Quidditch?’ Ginny asked thoughtfully after her brother and his wife joined the others in the lounge. ‘If Harry refused to shag me I’d definitely ground him until he changed his mind.’

Hermione laughed a little nervously. ‘God, no, he would be even more bad tempered then. I can’t imagine having to have sex with him when he’s in a foul mood.’

There was a flash of green flame in the fireplace and Arthur Weasley appeared carrying a large box covered in shiny pink wrapping paper and a multitude of ribbons.

‘Afternoon, girls,’ he said pleasantly, kissing both of them on the cheek as he gave each a hug. ‘Party that way, is it?’ He motioned towards the lounge, where a great deal of excitement was taking place from the sounds emerging.

Hermione nodded. ‘Do you want a cup of tea?’  She passed Arthur a mug.

‘Well, I suppose I’d better go and face the tribe,’ he said, smiling.

‘George and Angelina aren’t here yet,’ Ginny said. ‘But the rest of the gang’s all here. We’ll be in shortly.’

The doorbell rang again. ‘I’ll get it,’ Hermione said, and she headed off to greet George and Angelina with their children, offering them cups of tea before admitting them to the fairy glade. By the time she had poured their tea her own parents had arrived, causing yet more squeals of delight from the children.

A few minutes later Hermione and Ginny joined the rest of the family.


	5. Chapter 5

For the potion-making, Hermione stayed at Hogwarts. Ron was definitely not very happy about this to begin with, but after his mum, dad, Harry and Ginny all told him how selfish he was being he had no choice but to let her go. Hermione was determined to make the most of it.

First of all, she was looking forward to staying in Gryffindor Tower, her old school House, and reacquainting herself with her old teachers, especially Minerva McGonagall, Gryffindor’s old Head of House who was now Headmistress of the school. She looked forward to seeing Severus, too. Time spent with him was always intellectually stimulating, something she had been rather lacking with the recent spate of child birthdays.

Finally, she was really excited to at last be brewing the Wolfsbane potion, knowing that if they did it right they would be a step closer to stopping werewolf transformations for good. She also had to admit that the idea of three days away from Ron and the children appealed as well, although she felt guilty about that and tried not to think of it.

She Apparated to the gates outside the school carrying her faithful overnight bag and walked slowly up the path towards the castle, taking in the old familiar sights — the Black Lake; the Forbidden Forest with Hagrid’s hut, a pale trail of smoke rising from the chimney, just visible on the horizon; and of course the magnificent castle itself. She ran into a few students who were heading for the greenhouses or the West Tower for Arithmancy and they looked at her with interest, no one knowing who she was.

Professor McGonagall was waiting for Hermione in the Entrance Hall and greeted her enthusiastically, ushering her up to her office for a cup of tea and a chat before Hermione went to find Snape. She thanked the Headmistress once again for allowing her to stay at the school, and in Gryffindor Tower, too, and they proceeded to catch up with social niceties before she was released to head to the dungeons.

‘You know your way, Hermione, so I’ll let you go alone,’ Professor McGonagall said. ‘Severus is expecting you, of course, although don’t expect him to be too cheerful. He’s just had second-year Potions and he has a real problem with them.’

‘Thank you, Professor McGonagall,’ Hermione said, smiling. ‘I’m used to Severus’ moods by now. I did have seven years on the receiving end of his temper.’ She grinned.

‘Call me Minerva,’ Professor McGonagall told her. ‘I’ll see you at dinner. You will be sitting at the staff table, obviously.’

Hermione stood, and having said hullo and had a short conversation with the portrait of Albus Dumbledore, the Headmaster from her own school days, she went down the spiral staircase and off towards the dungeons. Snape’s classroom door was closed but she could hear no sound of students inside, so she knocked. A moment later she heard footsteps and then the door was flung wide, revealing the scowling countenance of the Potions Master. The scowl immediately softened when he realised who the visitor was.

‘Hermione, you’re here,’ he said happily, and he ushered her into the room. ‘You’ve just saved me from the tediousness of hours of reading about Bezoars over and over again. One day   I really must get round to changing the homework plan.’

Hermione followed him from the classroom into his study, where he stopped briefly to deposit the pile of parchments he had scooped up from the classroom desk. She looked around, interested as ever, at some of the things he had in his jars. During a future visit she really needed to have a good look around. He seemed to have some extremely rare ingredients.

‘Are you well?’ Snape asked politely as he un-warded the door to his private quarters.

‘Yes, thank you, Severus,’ Hermione replied. She walked into the lounge area of his rooms, stopping before the wing-backed chairs. ‘And you?’

Snape shrugged. ‘I’m fine, thank you, apart from having to deal with a bunch of idiots this morning. At least this afternoon should be slightly more stimulating.’ He gestured to the chairs, bidding Hermione to sit. ‘Would you like some tea or something else before we begin?’

Hermione shook her head as she sat in one of the leather chairs. ‘I’ve just had tea with the Headmistress,’ she said with a chuckle. ‘I heard you had a bad class. Minerva warned me you wouldn’t be in a good mood.’

Snape scowled and sighed. ‘The second years are like a whole room full of Longbottoms, Goyles and Crabbes,’ he said wearily. ‘Every class is a new low on the disaster scale. Oh, for a student even half as good as you were, although obviously I would prefer the know-it-all attitude not to be present.’

‘I didn’t turn out that badly for a know-it-all,’ Hermione said. Her tone was prickly.

Snape laughed dryly. ‘No. I will admit that you continue to be outstanding, Miss Granger.’

They talked for several hours, discussing and planning the work they were going to do on the potion, and then for a while there was general chatter about anything and everything. It was soon time for dinner.

‘Do you want to get changed?’ Snape asked. ‘You can use my bathroom if you wish, or I can take you back to Gryffindor Tower.’

‘Here will be fine,’ Hermione said. ‘Then I can go to dinner with you, if you don’t mind.’

She passed through Snape’s bedroom, smiling as she went. It looked exactly as she had always pictured his bedroom would look. With the exception of the large dark wood four-poster bed with green and black furnishings and a much larger than expected wardrobe, the room was almost identical to the lounge, with Slytherin tapestries on the dark dungeon walls, candles only just providing light, and a large, comfortable-looking chair next to a small table near the fire. There was even a large bookcase housing a pile of extremely old and large books, presumably about Potions.

Hermione continued into the bathroom, interested to see the large quantity of personal care items that Snape possessed, all of which were stored so regimentally aligned — whether on the shelf or in the cupboard that she had opened out of interest — that it bordered on OCD. For a moment the wicked thought entered her mind to rearrange some of the products just to see how he would react, but she managed to stop herself, especially as she knew she shouldn’t really be looking in the first place.

Instead, she reached for her bag, pulling at the zipper. A few minutes later she emerged from the bathroom, having changed into more formal robes, and the two of them made their way up to the Great Hall for dinner.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Hermione and Snape spent three days brewing their potion, working late into the night and starting again early in the morning. On several occasions house-elves appeared, bringing in trays of food and drink for them sent by the Headmistress as they completely forgot about going to meals, interested only in what the potion was doing.

She felt happier than she had for ages, and the work enabled her to not even think about Ron or her children. Hermione loved being back in a Gryffindor room, with the old four-poster bed and red and gold décor. So hard did they work that at the end of the day she sank gratefully beneath the covers, falling immediately into a deep and restful sleep. Only once did she think about Snape sleeping in his own four-poster bed way down in the dungeons but their one-off encounter was so long ago that it had become nothing more than a pleasant but faded memory.

The potion, whilst not a success, had definitely moved their research in the right direction. To celebrate Hermione and Snape spent her final evening at the Three Broomsticks. Over the course of the evening they were joined by several teachers including Hagrid, Neville and Professor Sinistra. All except Hagrid had one drink with the couple to celebrate their partial success, then moved on. Hagrid, however, showed no signs of moving, being thoroughly excited to see Hermione again and wanting to catch up on all manner of news regarding the Weasleys and Harry.

Hermione felt a little guilty. As much as she loved Hagrid she wanted to spend her last night with Severus, just the two of them sharing a quiet drink and some interesting conversation. Talking about Harry, Ron and her kids wasn’t at all what she’d had in mind. Apparently, it wasn’t what Snape had in mind, either. When it became clear that Hagrid had no intention of leaving them alone Snape drained his drink and stood, staring pointedly at Hermione.

‘Well, you must excuse us, Hagrid, but Hermione and I want to get a little final work done before she leaves.’

Hermione quickly downed the rest of her drink and stood, too. Hagrid mumbled unhappily but let them go, although not before giving Hermione a huge hug.

‘It was lovely to see you again, Hagrid,’ Hermione said sincerely. ‘I will tell Harry to get in touch, but you know how crap he’s always been at doing that.’

She smiled at the huge man before joining Snape, who was waiting impatiently by the door. He held it open, allowing her to exit in front of him.

‘Now what?’ she asked curiously. ‘I didn’t think we were working tonight.’

‘We’re not.’ Snape offered her his arm. ‘But I’m not spending all evening listening to that drunken oaf rake up stories about the wonderful Harry Potter.’ He scowled. ‘Anyway, I was hoping for something a little more private,’ he admitted as he led her along the street. ‘How about the Hog’s Head?’

Hermione laughed. ‘That’s definitely more private,’ she said. ‘Although I wonder what people will think if they see us going in there?’

Snape snorted. ‘I don’t really care what anyone thinks. Anyway, the beer is better in there than at the Three Broomsticks.’

‘Well, why didn’t you say that earlier?’ Hermione asked a little exasperatedly. ‘We could have gone there in the first place.’

Snape shrugged. ‘I thought you would prefer the ambiance of the Three Broomsticks.’

‘Come on, then,’ said Hermione with a smile. ‘Let’s go and get the decent beer.’

She noticed, though, that Snape entered the pub before her this time.

The pub was almost empty apart from a couple of what looked like hags sitting in the corner playing cards. She and Snape collected their drinks from the bar, then headed for a dark corner themselves. Facing the door, Hermione noticed. Even after all these years, Snape couldn’t stop being watchful.

The rest of the evening was pleasant, a relaxing discussion on all sorts of topics, none of which had anything to do with her family. Hermione and Severus were certainly easy company for each other now they had worked together for so long. She was feeling a little maudlin at the thought of having to go home, but she knew more work was coming.

The latest brewing of the potion had given them several intriguing new areas of research, and Hermione knew that now Molly was on her side about her working she would help to stop any objections Ron might have to further trips. Maybe she could cope with her family if she managed to get a couple of days away from them every month.

After a particularly long pause in the conversation, during which Snape went back up to the bar for more drinks, he looked at her intently as if he wanted to tell her something important. Hermione waited for him to say what was on his mind, knowing that interrupting wouldn’t help. Severus would speak only when he was ready and not before. His hand found hers and he caressed it gently, his long fingers tracing patterns on her skin and causing tiny electric shocks to run through her.

‘You’re not the only one who has fantasies, Hermione,’ he began, his voice dark and rich like chocolate. ‘Would you spend one night with me to explore mine?’

Hermione looked at Snape in surprise. She had never considered that he had any interest in her whatsoever. He had certainly never shown any after their last encounter. In fact, it was almost as if it had never happened. But surely he couldn’t mean tonight, could he? They would be at the school and she couldn’t believe he would be able to let her stay in his rooms. As a teacher there would be rules against that, she was sure.

Taking Hermione’s silence as her response, Snape hurriedly added, ‘It’s all right, I understand. I apologise. Please forget I mentioned it.’

He tried to let go of her hand but Hermione held firm. ‘Why are you apologising to me, Severus?’ she asked, frowning in confusion. ‘Of course I’ll spend the night with you, but when?’

Snape’s manner changed completely as he realised Hermione wasn’t rejecting him.

‘The school holidays start in two weeks,’ he said. ‘I thought perhaps we could work at my home rather than at Hogwarts. Obviously, I have a laboratory there too, and it would give us privacy. I don’t think going to the Leaky Cauldron again is a good idea.’ He smirked wickedly as he looked at her.

Hermione smiled broadly back at him. ‘That really would be wonderful, Severus. Let me know when, so I can arrange it.’ She picked up on the smirk. ‘What? Why are you smirking?’

‘Oh, I was just thinking about our last night together,’ Snape said darkly, ‘and how much noise you made. I’m amazed no one realised what we were doing.’ He waggled his eyebrows suggestively.

‘To be honest, Severus, I’m not sure there were many people there who would have cared,’ Hermione said honestly. ‘Hannah and Neville might have, but neither of them would ever have believed you and I would do something like that. After all, you’re such a snarky bastard and I’m married to Ron.’

She saw Snape’s face darken for a moment at her comment but it soon cleared as he realised she meant no malice.

‘Well, I still think it’s safer at Spinner’s End. You can make as much noise as you like then.’

Hermione looked amused. ‘I’m not that bad, am I?’

‘You will be,’ Snape promised, his voice even darker and more sensual than before.

Hermione couldn’t help the shiver of excitement that ran through her at his words. Inside she was in a complete whirl. Any faint hope she may once have held that Severus harboured any desire for her had long since gone, and so much time had passed since their previous encounter that his request came as a complete surprise — but definitely not an unpleasant one, she was interested to discover. In fact, she was shocked at just how excited the prospect of spending another night making love with Severus made her feel.

She was elated and yet as twitchy as a schoolgirl fantasising over her first crush which, Hermione thought, wasn’t actually too far wrong. By the time they left the pub and returned to the castle, Hermione heading for Gryffindor Tower while Severus headed off to the dungeons, Hermione no longer felt any disillusionment about returning home to her family. The sooner she got home, the sooner she would be back with Severus and finally in his arms once more. Happier than she had been for a long time, she settled down into bed and a truly wonderful night’s sleep filled with exciting and erotic dreams.

 

 

* * *

 

 

So it was that only four short weeks after their last meeting, Hermione found herself heading to a dreary terraced street in the northern Muggle town of Cokeworth.

Although she had been a little worried about raising the subject, Hermione was amazed to discover that Ron was quite happy for her to work with Severus again so quickly. In fact, he even suggested that rather than break up their work as they usually had to do, they should spend the entire week together working through with no interruptions.

At first Hermione was hopeful that there had been a breakthrough and this meant Ron had finally begun to understand the importance of the research she and Severus were doing and come to accept that she was right to continue working.

But then she remembered that the Quidditch World Cup was being held in Bulgaria that year and Ron planned to go with Harry and George; he was probably just feeling guilty, knowing how long he was going to be away. Of course, it was also the school holidays and the children were going to spend most of their time at the Burrow, as all the grandchildren always did, so he wouldn’t have to make sure he was at home to look after them.

Hermione looked at the bit of parchment once again to make sure she had the right place. The street she was in was pretty much deserted, although that was probably because it was the middle of the morning and everyone was at work. Having assured herself that she was definitely in Spinner’s End, she walked towards the last house in the row and used the door knocker to rap soundly on the door.

She waited but there was no response. She dropped her suitcase and knocked again, rubbing her hands together as she waited for Snape to open the door. Still nothing happened. She looked around. The whole area had a derelict air to it, with broken street lamps and scraps of rubbish blowing down the street. Even the pavements were unkempt and had weeds growing up between the broken cobblestones. This definitely wasn’t the best area in the world.

Still waiting for an answer, she attempted to look through the dirty window just to the right of the door. She peered into the dark and gloomy room beyond the grimy glass, trying to ascertain whether the house was indeed Severus’. It was possible. It was hard to tell because of the bad lighting, but she was sure she could see bookcases along one wall and Severus did love a bookcase.

Hermione went back to the door and knocked for a third time, this time stepping backwards and looking up to the rooms on the first floor in case there was any sign of life, or an open window. There was nothing up there that signified anyone was around. For a moment she wondered whether Severus had changed his mind and had instead, decided to stay at Hogwarts but she dismissed the thought immediately. He would never be so unprofessional, he would have told her if there was a problem. Even if he had changed his mind about the one night he wasn’t the sort of person to hide away and try to dodge the issue. 

In truth, Hermione had been worrying about this meeting more than she wanted to admit. It wasn’t that she didn’t want to sleep with Severus again, she did — very much — and she looked forward to discovering just what fantasies he had been having about her. But she was a little unsure of how it was going to work.

When they had spent their last night together it had been just that, one night . . . well, one night and most of the following day, but there had never been any chance for more than that. On this occasion they were going to be spending a whole week together. So how was that going to work? Would they spend the week working, trying to pretend that nothing was going to happen and ignoring the feelings that would surely be building up inside them — had already built up inside her, if she was honest? Surely the tension would be unbearable.

Knowing that Severus was so close and they were so near to being together once again would make the week a stressful one for her and probably for him, too, and that might be enough to affect any potion-making. It was a delicate art, after all. But conversely, if they made love on the first night, what would then happen for the rest of the week? Severus had asked for one night just the same as she had — but would it stay that?

Hermione couldn’t decide what she would do if one night had the possibility to become something more. If that happened it would change everything completely. One night asked for and one night granted gave both of them a chance to satisfactorily sate their desires with regard **s** to the other person, and whilst it was technically cheating on Ron it wasn’t as if they were having a full-blown affair . . . but more than one night . . . .

Her thoughts were broken by the door opening. Snape peered out at her, then stepped forward and picked up her suitcase and carried it into the house. Hermione followed him into the dark and dingy lounge she had looked at through the window.

‘I knocked three times,’ she said, a little more tartly than she meant to. ‘I was beginning to wonder if you had stayed at school.’

‘Sorry, I didn’t hear you,’ Snape said apologetically. ‘I was in my laboratory doing a last minute audit to make sure I had everything we needed. We’ve got to go to Diagon Alley later so I might as well get stocked up while I’m there. Did you have a good journey?’

‘It was easy enough, although the train was late,’ Hermione said with a shrug. She sat down in the chair Snape had indicated she should use.

‘I’ll just put your case away and then I’ll get us some tea,’ Snape told her. ‘No house-elves here, I’m afraid, so we have to do it ourselves.’

Hermione smiled. ‘I’m quite happy without house-elves, and I can make the tea if you want.’

Snape shook his head. ‘No, you just sit there and relax, Hermione. You’ve had a long journey.’ He grinned at her as he opened the door to the hall. ‘I’ll be getting you involved in the chores soon enough, don’t you worry.’

Hermione looked around the room as she waited for Severus to return. It was dark, dingy and rather shabby-looking and was seriously in need of a little renovation but she supposed Severus probably hadn’t noticed. He spent most of the year at Hogwarts and when he was here he probably spent most of his time in his laboratory. Being a typical bachelor, the house probably seemed to him to contain everything he needed so he didn’t feel it required updating.

There were bookcases — lots of them — and they contained the usual range of thick and interesting tomes that could be found on all of Severus’ shelves. The rest of the lounge contained two leather wing-backed chairs, one of which she was currently sitting in, on either side of a coffee table that housed a stack of _Potions Monthly_ magazines and rested on a large and very old-looking, moth-eaten rug. These were in front of an open fireplace with a rather impressive surround.

In fact, the set-up reminded her very much of Severus’ lounge at Hogwarts. The Potions Master was obviously a creature of habit. On the wall without bookcases there was a dresser containing a range of bottles in varying shapes and colours — she assumed alcohol rather than potions ingredients — and lots of glasses, also in a variety of shapes. Looking up, she spotted a rather old-fashioned light fitting with dusty frosted glass shades.

Hermione wondered whether Severus’ laboratory was just as bad but knew instinctively that it wouldn’t be. His interest in his lounge wasn’t great enough to have him worrying about what it looked like. It worked for its purpose, and he probably didn’t get enough guests for him to feel that he needed to modernise or just generally spruce up the place. His laboratory, on the other hand, would be used regularly and, if his bathroom and laboratory at Hogwarts were anything to go by, would be regimentally set out and everything would be scrupulously clean.

She smiled as Snape returned to the room carrying a tray containing tea things. He put the tray down on the coffee table before sitting in the other chair and looking at her interestedly.

‘Welcome to Spinner’s End,’ he said. ‘It’s not much, but at least it gets me away from Hogwarts occasionally.’ He picked up the teapot and began to pour the tea. ‘I don’t really get many visitors, as you can see from the décor — although I’ll be honest, I don’t really tend to notice it much,’ he added, sounding a little apologetic. 

Hermione took the offered cup and saucer from him. ‘I suppose it is a little old-fashioned but I assumed you spend most of your time in your laboratory when you’re here.’

‘I do. Occasionally I read in here in the evening, but generally the room isn’t used much,’ Snape admitted before he took a sip of his tea. ‘Once we’ve finished tea I’ll show you the laboratory. It used to be the dining room when my parents lived here.’ He saw Hermione look interested at the mention of his parents and added, ‘They both died years ago. My father died whilst I was still at school, my mother about twenty years ago after a short illness.’

‘I’m sorry,’ Hermione said sincerely.

Snape shrugged. ‘It wasn’t really much of a loss, to be honest. I didn’t get on with my father at all. He was a Muggle and didn’t really like magic, and always resented me for having it. My mother and I weren’t very close and she died during term time when it was particularly difficult to get away. I came back here during the following school holiday to have a clear-out with the intention of selling the place but soon realised I was unlikely to get much for it — you’ll have seen how grim the neighbourhood is. Anyway, I decided it was better than being stuck at school all year round and once I installed the laboratory and a few bookcases the old place became quite bearable.’    

Hermione put her empty cup back on the tray and looked at the bottles on the dresser. ‘They’re not potions ingredients, are they?’

Snape shook his head. ‘No, it’s alcohol of various sorts. There’s some elf-made wine in there somewhere. Most of them are liqueurs in various flavours, bought by my mother. She collected the glasses as well. Do you want another cup of tea?’

Hermione shook her head. ‘No, thank you, Severus. That was fine.’

Snape stood and picked up the tray. ‘In that case I’ll just go and get rid of this and then we can move to the laboratory.’

Hermione watched him go, feeling a touch anxious. Standing, she walked over to the dresser to examine the glasses and bottles more thoroughly while she waited. She was finding it hard to concentrate on what they were supposed to be doing when all she could think about was how desirable she found Severus and how much she wanted to make love to him. From the way he had behaved so far she assumed that the work was going to come first and she wasn’t at all sure how she felt about that.

As she looked at the glasses she slipped into one of the many fantasies she had been having ever since he asked her to give him one night in return. Her mind had conjured all sorts of interesting scenarios between them, although in truth she had no idea what his fantasies about her really contained. She started in surprise when he came back into the room and touched her shoulder gently to pull her from her reverie.

‘Ready to check out the laboratory?’ he asked, looking at Hermione intently and wondering what she was thinking about.

Hermione pushed the thought she had been having out of her mind and nodded to show she was ready. She followed Snape into a small hallway that contained a staircase and two doors.

Snape gestured to the door at the end. ‘That’s the kitchen. Feel free to help yourself to anything in there, if you can find anything you want. I haven’t been shopping yet as I thought we could go on our way back from Diagon Alley. That way we can get the food you want.’ He moved across the hall to the other door and turned the handle, pushed it open, and announced, ‘My laboratory.’

He stood to one side to allow Hermione entrance to the room, which she could already see was set out almost exactly the same as the one at Hogwarts.     

‘I have to admit to feeling a little awkward about this,’ Snape told her after they had entered.

‘Why’s that?’ Hermione asked. Her stomach tightened at the sudden thought that Severus had changed his mind about them making love again and that this was the reason he was feeling awkward. She very much hoped that wasn't the case. She wanted this between them more than anything she had ever desired in her life, except maybe their initial coming together.

Snape looked a little rueful. ‘I am aware that we are supposed to be here primarily to work, but to be frank, Hermione, all I can think about is taking you to bed, which seems a little premature as you are staying for a week and I know you only agreed to one night.’

Hermione smiled and moved closer to Snape, wrapping her arms around his waist and enjoying the feeling as he returned the embrace.

‘One hour, one night, one week — I'll happily spend all of them with you, Severus,’ Hermione said truthfully. ‘And I have to admit I was thinking about it, too. I was worried you would make me wait all week, which would be pure torture when I want you so much.’

Snape looked surprised but pleased at Hermione's words. He gave a low, dark chuckle. ‘I guess we won't be starting work straight away, then.’

His lips found hers for a kiss, which turned into another and then a third before he released her.

‘Work later, then? ’ he asked. His tone was slightly questioning, although it was clear he didn’t expect Hermione to respond as he took her hand and was already leading her back out of the room and towards the stairs leading to the bedrooms. He smiled mischievously. ‘After all, we do have all week to think about that.’


	6. Chapter 6

Hermione couldn’t help but smile as she watched Severus talk to the Ministry officials who had flocked to his side at his appearance. Unwilling, as always, to be the centre of attention, his scowl had just reached epic proportions and she knew it wouldn’t be much longer before he lost his temper completely and refused to take any further part in the celebration. She needed to intervene and calm him down before he walked out.

Severus deserved the praise and recognition he was getting this evening; she had no intention of allowing him to slink away like he had always done in the past. Of course, everyone wanted to talk to him. He was the potion’s brilliant creator, after all, and people were eager to know what had led to the latest breakthrough.

Hermione looked over to where Ron stood, clearly trying to avoid his brother Percy. She knew she should go and talk to him, at least attempt to play nice as he had made the effort to come along to the party and support her. But if she was honest, her only interest was in making sure Severus didn’t leave. She gave Ron a weak smile, then headed towards her lover.

‘Cheer up, it’s not _that_ bad,’ Hermione said as she slid her way through the circle of officials and slipped her arm through Snape’s. He looked relieved to see her although the scowl slipped for only a moment.

‘It’s all right for you,’ he said bad-temperedly. ‘You’re not the one getting all the blasted questions thrown at you. I saw you smirking away over in the corner.’

‘I wasn’t smirking,’ Hermione retorted. She brushed his arm soothingly. ‘You’re the popular one this evening because you’re the creator. Everyone wants to know about your brilliant work. And you should be happy to talk about it. You’ve done a wonderful thing, Severus.’

‘I didn’t do it alone,’ Snape said sullenly. ‘If it hadn’t been for your input the potion would never have got to this stage. You could talk about it just as easily as I.’

‘But you’re the creator, I just had a few ideas, so you’re the one of interest. Don’t worry, it will be over soon enough,’ Hermione said kindly. ‘I’ll stay with you if you want. Maybe I can answer some of the questions and take the heat off you for a little while.’

The crowd was parted by a photographer and his assistant, pushing through with his equipment. He looked at Snape and Hermione.

‘Any chance you can move, love? I want a picture of Professor Snape for _Witch Weekly_. Can you give us a nice smile, Professor?’

Snape gripped Hermione’s arm more tightly and glared at the photographer. ‘Miss Granger has been my partner during the project to update the Wolfsbane potion. In fact, it was thanks to her that any improvements were made at all. If you want to take a photograph you can take one of the two of us. We work as a team.’

At Snape’s words several reporters who until that point had just about given up trying to get any decent information out of the snarky teacher suddenly turned their attention to Hermione instead, hopeful that she would be more receptive to being interviewed. As Snape continued to stand grimly at her side, their arms still locked, Hermione began to answer their questions calmly and sensibly, directing those she felt Snape could answer better towards him with a little gentle persuasion in her voice. And so it was that the newspapers and magazines finally got the interviews they had been hoping for and some photographs, too — although none of them with Snape smiling.

Amongst a few of the more salacious journals the talk was of Snape and Hermione’s relationship, as the couple were clearly very easy in each other’s company. It was also noted that she seemed to prefer the company of the snide Potions Master to that of her husband, who was hiding away in the background, although no one could understand the attraction.

Snape was far older than the pretty young St Mungo’s employee, bad tempered, and unbecoming with an ugly great scar across his face; whereas Hermione’s husband was handsome and seemed, from the few conversations in which certain reporters had tried to engage him, exceedingly pleasant.

But after the question and answer session it was decided that there was nothing to report on in the couple’s private lives. It was clearly ridiculous that Hermione would jeopardise her marriage and her children’s happiness for bleak and sarcastic Severus Snape, regardless of how brilliant he was.    

Ron looked around the room grumpily as he took a sip from the glass of cheap wine he was holding. Hermione was off giving interviews with Snape, happily laughing and joking with members of the press and the Minister for Magic, Kingsley Shacklebolt, whilst he was stuck on his own way over here by the wall and relegated to observer. Anyone would think that greasy bastard was her husband from the way they were acting.

He took a larger mouthful of wine, then another, scowling as the photographer pushed Hermione and Snape together for still more photos. He finished the wine and looked around in hopes of spotting a waiter with a tray. Instead, he saw Percy, who caught his eye before Ron could look away. He groaned as his older brother waved and made his way across the room towards him. That was all he needed.

‘Hullo, Ron, here supporting Hermione in her moment of triumph?’ Percy asked, a large smile on his face. ‘I bet you’re really proud of her, aren’t you?’

Ron nodded his head stiffly. ‘Of course I am. Hermione has done some good work.’

‘No thanks to you, though, eh, little brother?’ Percy said, nudging Ron in the ribs. ‘From what I hear, if you’d had your way she would never even have gone back to work. Bet you feel a bit stupid now, don’t you?’

Ron scowled again. ‘Not really,’ he said coolly. ‘I’m sure Snape would have managed to improve his potion without Hermione’s help. I know she’s done a lot of work on it but it is his potion and I’m sure he’s more than capable of doing the work on his own.’

Percy frowned a little as he looked at his brother. ‘You’re really still not happy about this, are you?’

‘Are you surprised?’ Ron asked, trying to keep the bitterness out of his voice as he spoke. ‘For five years now Hermione has neglected her family responsibilities to help that . . . that _git_ with his poxy potion. I know she likes working, but surely her family should come first, shouldn’t they?’

Percy shook his head. ‘You’re thinking about this in the wrong way, Ronald. Hermione doesn’t neglect you or the kids and she’s doing some great work on top of that. You should be pleased that she’s working with Snape and not some handsome young whiz kid. You might really have something to be jealous about then.’

Ron scowled but didn’t say anything else. He was fed up with his family backing his wife over him all the time. Okay, so it was true that it seemed she had managed to work and bring up the children satisfactorily, but he wanted more from her — needed more from her — although to be honest he wasn’t entirely sure what it was he was after.

He looked over at Hermione and Snape, still chatting quite happily, their arms linked as if they were a couple. A few times Ron had considered whether there might be something going on between the two of them, but he always rejected the idea. For starters, no one in their right mind would touch Snape with a bargepole; but also he knew Hermione had absolutely no interest in sex.

After Hugo was born Ron had withheld that intimacy in his annoyance at her refusal to give up work and she had never tried to do anything about it. It had been eight years now since he and Hermione had last made love. When she didn’t immediately capitulate he cursed himself for being so stupid, although he was sure it would only be a matter of time before she tried to coax him into doing it with her once more. But as months turned to years he began to realise that she was quite happy doing without.

He had tried to go without, too, he really had. But then ten months ago he had gone for a drink after work with a bunch of colleagues from the office and had met a woman who entranced him from the first moment he set eyes on her. What started as a little harmless flirting with the bright and bubbly blonde, on his part at least, continued with a date during one of Hermione’s working-away periods and ended with him and Ottaline having furious and frantic sex that then turned into something slower and more sensual when he remembered he didn’t have to go home. Ron had been seeing her twice a week ever since.

It helped, of course, that Hermione never questioned him when he was late home from work, accepting his excuses that he’d had to work late, and as the relationship with Ottaline intensified he stopped complaining so much about Hermione working with Snape, too. But whilst he very much enjoyed the time he spent with his mistress he sometimes regretted that things had worked out as they had and that he and Hermione didn’t have the marriage he had always hoped for — but not quite enough to actually do anything to rectify the situation. Instead, she continued her work with that loathsome git, Snape, and he had a few hours of pleasure each week with a beautiful woman, whilst they both pretended there was nothing wrong with their marriage.

Hermione whispered something in Snape’s ear, then patted his arm soothingly and moved away from him, walking rapidly towards Ron and Percy. Ron looked bad-tempered as usual but Percy gave her a big, beaming smile.

‘Congratulations, Hermione,’ he said, leaning forward to kiss her cheek as he hugged her. ‘We’re all really proud of you.’

Hermione moved from her brother-in-law’s arms to stand with Ron, wrapping her arms around him. After a moment’s pause he held her back, although rather stiffly, and he, too, kissed her cheek.

‘Thank you, Percy,’ Hermione acknowledged. ‘How’s Audrey? And the girls?’

‘They’re all good,’ Percy replied with a smile. ‘The twins are enjoying Hogwarts and seem to be doing really well in lessons. I think there could be a bit of rivalry once they get to Prefect age, as they can’t both be one . . . but that’s a few years down the line yet. So how are Rosie and Hugo?’

Hermione smiled as she disengaged herself from Ron. ‘Rose is desperate to go to Hogwarts. I’m not sure whether she wants to get away from us or just wants to be more grown up now that her magic has started showing. I think she’s jealous of those who have already gone; the week before school started she even began making a list of the things she’ll need to take with her. I did tell her she would receive a shopping list when she gets her letter but it didn’t do much to pacify her. Hopefully, she’ll become obsessed with something else shortly, otherwise it’s going to be an extremely long two years until she gets her call-up papers.

‘Hugo is just being a typical seven-year-old boy. He’s got a thing about frogs and toads at the moment so he keeps bringing them home. I did tell him he could only keep one of each, but every time I go into his bedroom there are more tubs containing the bloody things. I wouldn’t mind, but he keeps forgetting they’re there and the poor things suffocate in those horrid little containers as he either completely forgets to put holes in the lid or puts too few. I’m beginning to feel like I’m mounting a one-woman frog rescue campaign.’

Percy laughed. ‘That’s why I’m glad we’ve got girls. All they talk about all the time is Pygmy Puffs. I’ve had to have a stiff word with George because every time we visit the shop he tries to give them each one, but Audrey finds them a bit creepy so I can’t really let them in the house without upsetting her.’

‘I’ve always thought they were really cute,’ Hermione said. She thought for a moment, then said to Ron, ‘I wonder if a Pygmy Puff might take Rosie’s mind off Hogwarts for a while. What do you think?’

Ron shrugged. ‘Maybe. I suppose I could have a word with George about getting one if you like. I think they’re pretty easy to look after, aren’t they?’

‘They’ve got to be easier than those blinking toads,’ Hermione said. She took Ron’s hand and squeezed it. ‘Do you want to go home? I was hoping I would be able to slip away by now, but Kingsley told the _Daily Prophet_ that Severus and I would do an exclusive interview with them after the party finishes so I’m going to be stuck here for a while longer.’

Ron scowled at this news. ‘Was there any point in me coming?’ he asked waspishly.

Hermione sighed, sounding weary. ‘I’m sorry, Ron. It’s not exactly what I want to do, either, but I suppose it is newsworthy and you know Severus will never talk on his own.’ She squeezed his hand again and smiled at him. ‘I really am glad you came, you know, and you can wait for me if you want. I just thought you might have had enough by now. I know I have.’   

Ron stared at her bitterly but then realised a photographer was heading their way, so he forced himself to smile.

‘Well, I might as well go if you’re going to be a while.’ His mind turned to Ottaline and he wondered whether there was any chance of a quickie with her as Hermione wasn’t going to be coming home immediately. At least that would mean the evening hadn’t been a complete waste of time. The thought made him instantly feel better and his smile became less forced. ‘What time do you think you’ll be back?’

Hermione shrugged. ‘I’ve no idea. It depends how much longer this party goes on. I hope it won’t be too late as I’ve got to be in work early tomorrow. I’ve got a meeting to attend.’

‘Well, I’m going to pop round to George’s and see about getting a Pygmy Puff for Rosie, then I might go for a couple of drinks afterwards. If you get back before me, don’t panic. I’m just having a beer.’ He pulled Hermione to him and gave her another brief kiss on her cheek.

The photographer pounced. ‘Can we have a picture of the two of you?’ he asked.

Ron frowned. ‘Why do you want a picture of us? I haven’t done anything worth reporting about.’

‘You’re Miss Granger’s husband,’ the photographer said, as if it was obvious. ‘The readers like to see pictures of happy couples. The photo will make a nice counterpoint to the ones of your wife and Professor Snape.’     

Ron sighed as if he was being put upon but he put his arm around Hermione, pulling her close to him, and once again smiled for the cameras.

‘You make a lovely couple,’ the photographer said quietly to Ron once the last photo had been taken and Hermione had turned to talk to Percy once again. ‘It’s really nice that you trust your wife to work so closely with Snape.’

‘Why would there be a problem? They’re just work colleagues,’ Ron replied, his voice a touch chilly now.

The photographer laughed as he confided, ‘There’s been a bit of talk about just how close the two of them really are . . . you know . . . whether they’re a bit more than just work colleagues.’ He shook his head and chuckled as he moved even closer to Ron. ‘Obviously it’s rubbish, just the rags trying to stir up a scandal without any proof. Let’s face it, while I’m sure Snape might be interested in your wife as she is a lovely-looking woman, I can’t honestly see her having any interest in him. He’s not exactly catch of the month, is he, not even with the fame from the Wolfsbane potion.’

Ron almost retorted that Hermione’s interest in a person wasn’t as shallow as being interested in their looks or fame, but he realised the photographer was fishing and a comment of that type would just fan the flames if there really were rumours going round about the status of Hermione and Snape’s relationship. He shook his head dismissively.

‘Hermione was the only person who ever had any time for him when we were at school,’ he told the photographer blandly. ‘I think it’s a Potion Master thing. It was pretty clear even then that that was likely to be her chosen field, and they’re both capable of being pretty difficult when they want to be so they make a perfect match, work-wise.’

‘Can’t we all?’ the photographer said with a grin. Then without missing a beat he asked, ‘Is it true that you weren’t very happy about Hermione working with him?’

Ron shook his head, a scowl now on his face. ‘No, it’s not. I’ll admit that I wanted Hermione to give up work when the children were born, but it never went any further than a few arguments and wasn’t a realistic proposition when she was so career-orientated. She didn’t start working with Snape until several years later and there was never any problem with that. Just because I don’t like him doesn’t mean my wife shouldn’t work with him.’

‘Why don’t you like him?’ the photographer asked interestedly, scenting the possibility of a story.

‘For exactly the same reason hundreds of other people don’t like him,’ Ron said with a shrug. ‘He was a mean bastard when he taught us at Hogwarts. He hated Gryffindors, and our best friend Harry especially, so he used to pick on us a lot. Hermione managed to get past his treatment of us but I never could. I never liked him and nothing he’s done since has really changed my opinion of him, although to be honest I haven’t spoken to him much since leaving school. Hermione is aware of my dislike and keeps her work very separate from her home life, so most of the time I don’t have to have anything to do with him.’

The photographer looked as if he was about to say something else, but Ron had no interest in talking further and had no intention of going deeper into either his feelings about Hermione working or her relationship with Snape.

‘Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to go,’ he said firmly. ‘I understand Hermione has been asked by the Minister for Magic to stay to give an interview to the _Daily Prophet_ after the party, so I need to go home and make sure the kids are okay.’

Ron purposely turned his back on the photographer to make it clear he had no intention of saying anything else and looked instead at Hermione, who had now finished her conversation with Percy, who had left, and had been listening to the end of Ron’s. The photographer debated for a moment whether to attempt to intrude further but then realised he no longer had an entrance and walked away, leaving the couple alone. 

‘What was that about Severus?’ Hermione asked. She was frowning slightly.

‘A load of old rubbish,’ Ron said dismissively. ‘Apparently, some of the seedier rags are insinuating that the two of you are having an affair. That bloke was trying to get me wound up about it. I expect he was hoping for something juicy to print. I pretty much told him it was bollocks, although I admitted I didn’t really like Snape because of the way he treated us at school. I wouldn’t worry about it, Hermione. No one with half a brain is going to believe you two are involved.’

Hermione sighed and rubbed her eyes. She realised her heart was beating faster at Ron’s words. It was guilt, she supposed. ‘I suppose a brilliant new potion isn’t interesting enough for the bottom-feeders. I’ve no idea how they decided we’re having an affair, though.’

‘You are pretty close,’ Ron pointed out gruffly. ‘Especially this evening, all that arm-linking and stuff.’

Hermione stared at him for a second. ‘I was trying to stop Severus from running away. You know what he’s like. Anyway, we’re good friends. I know you don’t like him, but I do.’

‘I know,’ Ron replied wearily sensing another argument on the horizon. Needing to head it off he said, ‘I’m going to go then. I’ll see you later.’

Hermione nodded. ‘I’ll be back as soon as I can. Thank you again for coming to support me, Ron. I really do appreciate it.’

Ron gave a weak smile. ‘Not a problem.’

Hermione watched him walk to the door before she made her way back over to Severus, who was hiding from the press by surrounding himself with a group of Potions Masters who were all eagerly discussing the Wolfsbane potion with him.

‘I see your husband’s left,’ he said quietly as Hermione reached his side.

‘I told him about the interview,’ Hermione said. ‘He’s already bored stiff so there’s no point in him staying. It’ll just make him grumpy and I have no desire to end up having another argument.’

‘So we might get a little time alone, then?’ Snape asked hopefully, his voice low in her ear.

Hermione looked at him carefully for a moment before she answered equally quietly, ‘One of the photographers from the _Daily Prophet_ was attempting to wind Ron up with a story that some of the seedier papers are considering running — that you and I are having an affair. He didn’t believe it, of course, but I’m not sure you and I sneaking away somewhere together is a good idea, especially if the press really is looking for some dirt.’

Snape showed no sign of being disappointed as he told her, ‘No, of course not. It was only an idea. I’ll be seeing you next week anyway.’ His hand brushed against hers for a moment. ‘What time is this blasted interview?’

Hermione shrugged. ‘I’ve got no idea. I’ll go find Kingsley and see if I can find out.’ She looked at the Potions Masters who were still milling around, obviously waiting for them to finish their conversation. ‘It looks like your fan club are waiting with more questions, anyway.’ She touched his arm and smiled as Snape scowled. ‘I’ll see you in a minute.’

She scanned the crowd looking for the distinctive robes of the Minister for Magic, then spotted him amid a group of sombrely-robed Ministry wizards and headed off in his direction. Snape watched her go, his eyes taking in everything about her as she walked away. His scowl disappeared as he watched. Hermione looked so beautiful this evening. He would have loved to spend a little time alone with her, even without making love, but it was vital that the press didn’t get any proof of anything more than a professional relationship between them.

He turned back to the group, aware that one of them had asked him a question and he had completely missed it because of his focus on Hermione.

‘I’m sorry, can you repeat that?’ he asked briskly, the scowl now firmly fixed back on his face.        


	7. Chapter 7

‘I want you to close your eyes,’ Snape announced. He had just opened the front door of Spinner’s End to Hermione and was blocking her entrance.

‘Why?’ Hermione asked worriedly. She tried to peer round him but Snape took a step forward and pulled the door closed behind him to stop her from seeing anything.

‘It’s a surprise. Now stop asking stupid questions and just shut your eyes. You’re not coming in until you do.’

‘You know I hate surprises,’ Hermione complained.

‘You’ll like this one, I promise,’ Snape told her seductively. ‘Now close your eyes, Hermione.’

Hermione sighed but did as she was told. Snape picked up her bag, and putting it over his shoulder he re-opened the front door. He took hold of Hermione’s hand and led her inside.

‘Make sure you keep your eyes closed until I tell you,’ he warned.

Hermione was tempted to open them at this comment but she could tell Severus was excited about whatever it was he was going to show her and she couldn’t help but be intrigued. Severus was never excited about anything, at least not visibly. She knew he felt excitement when their progress on whatever potion they were working on at the time was going well, but even then it was more like restrained interest rather than the sort of emotion Hermione tended to show. For the first time in all the years she had known him he was eager about something and she didn’t want to ruin it for him by cheating, however much she hated surprises.

They had moved into the lounge now. Hermione knew this without looking; after all these years she knew the layout of Spinner’s End as well as she knew her own home.

‘You can open your eyes now,’ Snape whispered in her ear. He was obviously standing behind her, and for some reason it made Hermione shiver. ‘Happy anniversary, Hermione.’

Hermione opened her eyes and looked around in astonishment. Gone was the dark and dreary sitting room she knew so well, with its dowdy and old-fashioned furnishings. The lounge she stood in was light and airy, freshly painted in a pale shade of yellow that brightened up everything. There were paintings on the wall — splashes of abstract colour — that heightened the sensation of brightness, and while Severus had kept the two large wing-backed chairs he was obviously so fond of, he had added a huge and extremely comfortable-looking sofa in a lustrous emerald velvet and replaced the coffee table with something more modern. The rotten, moth-eaten rug had gone, too, leaving the bare floorboards which had been sanded and polished.

She couldn’t help but turn on the spot, looking in wonder at all the changes Severus had made to the room. His mother’s ugly dresser with all the strange bottles and glasses was gone, but in its place stood a more modern glass and metal structure and some of the rarer glassware was displayed upon it. The bookshelves were still there, of course, but even they had been modernised; a coat of bright yellow gloss gave them a touch of modernity and Severus had arranged the books so they sat neatly by size rather than shoved in anywhere as was previously the case. The fireplace remained the same, although even that had been cleaned; the copper surround gleamed and the mantelpiece had been painted with the same gloss as the bookshelves. A huge vase containing a massive bunch of flowers was now the centrepiece in front of a large mirror that hung above it.

‘It looks fantastic, Severus,’ Hermione admitted. She was grinning, unable to stop herself. The place looked so much better than the dark and dingy room in which she had spent the previous ten years. ‘What on earth possessed you to redecorate?’ she asked as Snape took her in his arms and kissed her soundly.

‘You know I’ve never been bothered about this place,’ Snape told her honestly once they had reached a break in the kissing. ‘But I know you’ve always found Spinner’s End depressing so I thought I’d redecorate it for you as an anniversary present.’

Hermione gazed warmly at her lover. ‘That was really thoughtful of you, Severus.’

Snape gave a deep chuckle. ‘It was really selfish, you mean,’ he countered.

Hermione looked at him in confusion. ‘What do you mean, selfish?’

Snape stared at her in return for a moment before he replied, ‘Now that we’ve been together for a few years I thought I’d better do something about redecorating the old place, otherwise you might get fed up with waiting for me to do it and end the relationship.’

‘I had no intention of ending the relationship because you hadn’t decorated. If I was going to do that I’d have done it within the first year we were together. I certainly wouldn’t have waited ten years to do it,’ Hermione told him.

Snape shrugged. ‘It occurred to me that after a decade together you might want to reconsider whether the relationship was what you wanted. If you were considering ending it then it was possible the shabby state of Spinner’s End could be the final nail in the coffin, so I thought I’d better do something about sprucing it up. It was well overdue anyway.’

‘I agree that it was definitely overdue,’ Hermione said tautly. ‘But why would you think I want to end the relationship? Surely you must know that’s the last thing I want. You know how I feel, I’ve told you enough times.’

Snape hugged her tightly. ‘I know. But you know how I feel, too, and I thought you might be in the mood to reassess your situation and decide that you had already wasted ten years on me and didn’t want to waste any more.’

‘Do you think it’s been a waste, then?’ Hermione asked quietly. Her heart was beating like a drum, a sick feeling of dread in her stomach at the thought that Severus was going to end their relationship.

‘No, of course I don’t,’ Snape said rapidly. ‘For me, it’s been the most wonderful time of my life. But I know what you want, Hermione, and I can’t give you that. I’m sorry.’

Hermione knew what Severus was talking about but she hadn’t expected him to raise the subject on their anniversary. She tried to think whether she had done something to give him the impression that she was thinking of calling it a day, but she was sure she hadn’t. The thought had never even crossed her mind, at least not since that day that . . . but she didn’t want to remember that day at the moment. It was still too painful. But now Severus had reminded her of it and she couldn’t get it out of her brain, and that made her worried again.

‘Do you want to end the relationship?’ she whispered, the only way she could say it without her voice shaking. She could feel tears pricking her eyes as she waited for Severus’ response.

‘Absolutely not,’ Snape replied adamantly. ‘Didn’t I just explain that I’d redecorated to try to keep hold of you?’

‘Then I don’t understand,’ Hermione said unhappily. ‘Why all this stuff about us breaking up? You know I don’t want to leave you.’

Snape sighed. ‘I just wanted to be sure you were happy, Hermione. I’m acutely aware that I’m not giving you what you want and I don’t want you staying with me out of some sort of misguided loyalty. We’re both adults, and although it would certainly be difficult at first I’m sure eventually we could continue to work together even if we were no longer lovers.’

Hermione pulled away from his arms and moved closer to the fireplace and wrapped her arms around herself, clearly upset.

‘I don’t understand why you keep saying all this stuff about us splitting up. I told you I’ve no desire to do so, it’s had never even crossed my mind. So if that’s what you want just tell me now, Severus, and put me out of my misery.’

‘I just want what’s best for you,’ Snape said calmly.

‘And you think ending our relationship is for the best?’ Hermione sounded horrified.

Snape sighed again as he shook his head. ‘No, of course not. Look, I’m sorry. I don’t even know how we got to this point. I redecorated to give you somewhere pleasant to stay, but then somehow it all backfired. I should never had said that thing about being selfish because it all went completely wrong from there and it was only meant as a bit of a joke. I’m just not very good at telling jokes.’ He walked over to Hermione and wrapped his arms around her, squeezing her tightly. ‘I have absolutely no desire to give you up unless you want to end it. But I really hope you don’t, because I don’t want to lose you.’

‘I’m not going anywhere,’ Hermione told Snape as she clung to him in return. Her heart was still clattering in her chest and she was trying to fight the sick feeling. ‘You know I love you, Severus.’

Snape stroked her hair as he continued to hold her. ‘I know,’ he admitted quietly. ‘But I just want you to be happy.’

‘I am,’ Hermione insisted, although she was aware she sounded miserable.

Eager now to leave the unpleasant discussion behind and return to the light-hearted playfulness that had started their meeting, Snape told her, ‘I didn’t just redecorate the lounge, you know.’

Hermione looked at him, grateful that he was trying to change the subject although she was having trouble letting it go. 

‘Did you redecorate the lab?’

Snape gave a sharp laugh. ‘That’s the one place in the house that didn’t need redecorating. That’s perfect as it is.’ He looked intently at Hermione, gazing into her beautiful brown eyes as he said smugly, ‘I’ve done the bedroom, though, and I’m rather proud of it, if I do say so myself.’ 

Hermione stared back at him for a moment without saying anything.

‘Would you like to see it?’ Snape asked.

Hermione nodded her head, still unable to speak for the moment.

With a grin, Snape took hold of her hand and began to pull her towards the door, eager to show off his handiwork once more. He picked up her bag that he had left on the stairs, still holding her hand as they climbed.

‘You are going to love this,’ he promised as he stopped outside the door of the master bedroom. ‘And this is definitely all for you, Hermione. Are you going to close your eyes again?’

‘Do I need to?’ she asked, a touch more coldly than she meant.

‘Personally, I think it will be better if you do, but it’s your decision. You don’t have to if you’d rather not,’ Snape told her, ignoring her tone.

Hermione closed her eyes again. ‘Go on, then, open the door.’

Snape opened the bedroom door and led Hermione inside, closing the door behind them.

‘I don’t ever want to lose you, Hermione,’ he whispered in her ear as he wrapped his arms around her, pulling her back against him.

Hermione opened her eyes. The bedroom was blue, her favourite colour, and had been opulently decorated. It was clear that Severus had spent considerable time and money on getting it just right. The walls graduated from the palest pearl shade on the ceiling and the tops of the walls through every possible gradient to deepest midnight blue at the bottom on the skirting boards. The curtains at the window and the matching ones on the massive four-poster bed were thick and luxurious, and Hermione loved it. The bed was covered in a thick satin and velvet bedspread and there were mounds of matching pillows which made it seem cosy and extremely comfortable.

‘I want to take you to bed,’ Snape told her honestly, his voice husky with desire. He was still holding her, his lips finding her neck and ear in small, fleeting kisses that tickled.

‘But it will mess up the beautiful bed,’ Hermione pointed out, trying to keep her voice light.

‘That’s what it’s there for.’ Snape laughed as he picked her up and carried her over to the bed and dropped her onto it, his mouth covering hers once again as he joined her.

‘This is really beautiful,’ Hermione said as she looked around her, enjoying the feel of the soft bed beneath her and her lover on top of her, the beautiful colours soothing her troubled soul.

‘You’re beautiful,’ Snape told her as he gazed into her eyes. ‘I’m sorry, Hermione, I honestly didn’t mean to upset you. We’re supposed to be celebrating today, not arguing.’

Hermione stared back at him, willing herself to let go of the feelings that threatened to overwhelm her. ‘Then let’s celebrate.’

‘There are lots of hidden facets to this room . . . enough to satisfy both our fantasies,’ Snape said seductively. He reached out a hand and pressed, revealing a hitherto concealed cupboard, and pulled out a bottle of champagne. ‘I think it could take us another decade to put it through its paces properly.’

‘No time like the present to start, then,’ Hermione said with a smile. She had already begun to undress him and wriggled pleasurably, giggling, as Snape returned the favour.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Hermione lay with her head on Severus’ chest, listening to his heartbeat. It was slow and steady, just as expected from someone who was asleep. She envied his ability to drift off so easily, although she was sure this meant he had given no more thought to their earlier argument. For him, their lovemaking was sufficient proof that he was forgiven and the equilibrium of their relationship had been restored.

But Hermione was having trouble sinking into that blissful oblivion because she couldn’t put out of her mind the original circumstances that had led to the argument. In all the years she had been with Severus it had been her most upsetting moment and one that, if she had let it, would not only have ruined her relationship with him forever but might potentially have ruined her entire life.

Since they returned to bed after an afternoon spent working on their latest potion and a wonderful and completely unexpected anniversary meal at an expensive Muggle restaurant Severus had taken her to, Hermione’s mind returned, as it had done every time she was on the verge of dropping off, to the moment two years before that had redefined their relationship forever.

She was desperate not to recall it in detail, not wanting to remember the painful past, and each time the effort to block the memory was enough to have her tossing and turning into wakefulness once more. But now she was weary and no longer able to fight the ghosts of her past as she began to drift away.

_They had just finished making love, yet another exquisite moment of joy that Hermione felt grateful to Severus for making possible. She was feeling sated and blissfully happy and needed nothing more than her lover’s arms around her. Her relationship with Ron had not improved over the years; although they both continued with the charade that things were fine with their marriage in front of their friends and family, they hardly talked to each other anymore, and certainly not about anything of any importance._

_With the children now attending Hogwarts and away from home for most the year they were both free to spend as much time away from each other as they could possibly get away with, and with Ron no longer complaining about the amount of time Hermione devoted to Severus and their work together, she retreated more and more into her lover’s world._

_She had no idea what Ron did most of the time, although Quidditch had always been a huge part of his life both during their marriage and before. Over the years he had spent a lot of his free time following the Chudley Cannons around, and as far as she was aware that didn’t seem to have changed much._

_Because of this change in circumstances Hermione had been giving considerable thought to their future, debating whether at thirteen Hugo was old enough to understand the concept of divorce and the breakdown of his parents’ marriage. It wasn’t the first time the idea had crossed her mind over the years, but it was the first time she had thought about it in a serious way. The more she considered the situation, the more Hermione knew she wanted to end her marriage and spend the rest of her life with Severus._

_She stirred in his arms, causing him to squeeze her more tightly for a moment as his lips searched out her forehead. She moved a little so they could kiss properly, her arms wrapping around him in return._

_‘Are you happy with the way things are between us, Severus?’ Hermione asked quietly once the kissing had stopped for a while._

_Snape looked at her in surprise._

_‘Of course I am. Why wouldn’t I be?’ he asked, his voice deep and smooth._

_‘I just wondered if you ever thought about things becoming more serious,’ Hermione said tentatively._

_Snape frowned. ‘Can they get any more serious? I mean, this isn’t exactly a casual relationship, is it, Hermione?’_

_Taking a deep breath, she ventured, ‘I was thinking about leaving Ron.’ Snape stared at her but didn’t say anything. ‘I was thinking that maybe once we’re divorced you and I could get married.’_

_With a sigh Snape pushed Hermione away from him and sat up._

_‘You’ve got children,’ he pointed out gruffly. ‘And I teach them at school.’_

_‘I know that,’ Hermione said as she sat up, too. She could feel her heart pounding and her stomach roiling as the conversation wasn’t going in the direction she had hoped. ‘But I’m sure they’re old enough to understand the situation if it were properly explained to them.’_

_Snape shook his head briskly but didn’t say anything._

_‘I don’t love Ron,’ Hermione told him candidly. ‘I want to be with you all the time, not with him. I love you, Severus.’_

_Snape sighed again. ‘You can’t split up the family, Hermione. It could cause irreparable damage.’_

_‘It doesn’t have to,’ Hermione said unhappily. ‘As I said, if we explain it properly—’_

_‘Not while they’re still at school,’ Snape replied darkly, cutting her off. He got up from the bed and pulled on his dressing gown._

_‘Where are you going?’ Hermione asked. She felt shaky and there was a sick feeling in her stomach._

_‘I’m going to work on the potion,’ Snape answered as he reached the door and opened it. He looked back at her, his face showing no emotion at all. ‘You go to sleep. There’s no point in both of us sitting around all night.’_

_He left the room, closing the door behind him._

_Hermione stared at the closed door for several minutes as she tried to fight the nausea and shaking. She had just opened her heart to the man she loved and he had rejected her — and worse still, he wasn’t even prepared to discuss it but had run away, taking refuge in the work that until now they had always shared. She sank back onto the bed, grabbing her pillow as tears started to fall. Hermione began to sob, pressing her face into it so as not to make any noise. There was a pain in her heart caused by Severus’ rejection of her. It felt like her heart was breaking._

_As she lay there she wondered how she could have got it so wrong. She had been sure that Severus cared for her as deeply as she did him, even though he had never told her he loved her. From the way he acted towards her whenever they first saw each other after even just a brief time spent apart and just before she had to go home again, she had been sure he would be interested in taking their relationship to the next level, but somehow it seemed she had misread all the signs._

_As the tears stopped and pain turned to anger Hermione considered leaving, mortified at the way she had embarrassed herself. She could imagine Severus skulking downstairs in his laboratory, not wanting to have anything to do with her because she had let her emotions get out of control. But she was frustrated, too, at his refusal to even talk to her about it. As she lay there she came to the realisation that what Severus was telling her with his actions was that there would never be anything more between them than they currently had._

_Not willing to accept this in her upset state, Hermione got up and began to pack, emptying drawers and cupboards, determined to leave as Severus could never give her what she wanted so desperately. Her tears flowed the entire time, and although it broke her heart all over again to do it, Hermione knew she had to end their relationship._

_She had not quite finished packing when Snape returned to the bedroom. He was carrying a tray containing two mugs of tea. Upon entering the room he watched silently as Hermione carefully rolled clothes to put in her now magically-enlarged suitcase._

_‘You’re going.’ It was a statement rather than a question, made more sombre by Snape’s dark voice._

_Hermione stopped what she was doing and turned to face him, the tears still running down her cheeks._

_‘There’s no point in me staying when you don’t want me, Severus,’ she said miserably._

_Snape sighed loudly. Putting the tray on the bedside table he moved over to Hermione and wrapped her in his arms, trying to ignore the way she stiffened slightly as he did so._

_‘I never said I didn’t want you,’ he said reasonably, his hand moving to brush away her tears. ‘I just can’t marry you.’_

_He released her from his embrace and took her hand, leading her back to the bed where he handed her a mug of tea. Hermione sat down on the bed, still looking miserable. Snape sat down next to her and picked up his own mug, staring into the dark brown liquid for a moment before speaking again._

_‘I know you care for me, Hermione,’ Snape said carefully._

_‘I love you,’ Hermione answered before he had a chance to continue._

_‘I care for you, too,’ Snape continued, seeming to ignore Hermione’s passionate outburst, ‘and I know your relationship with Weasley hasn’t been as good as it could have been. I know it’s frustrating for you, and that it seems like things would be better if you ended your marriage, but that couldn’t be further from the truth.’_

_He took a sip of his tea, then added, ‘I’m an old bachelor, Hermione, stubborn and set in my ways, and I don’t think marriage to me would be the idyll you seem to believe it would be. The relationship we have now would be changed beyond all recognition, and in doing so it would rip your family apart, leaving wounds that could never be fully healed. You’re still young and haven’t yet had to suffer the true loss of a loved one, so you don’t understand the loneliness and pain this causes and the importance of a strong family unit.’_

_He put his tea down on the tray and took hold of Hermione’s free hand. His voice was even deeper as he told her, ‘I don’t want you to leave, Hermione. You enrich my life in so many ways and have helped me to achieve some brilliant work, but I can’t give you more than this — I can’t allow you to tear apart your family. So if you feel you need to leave I won’t stop you . . . however much I might want to.’_

_‘But I don’t understand why you’re so convinced this will tear the family apart,’ Hermione insisted. She was trying to stop herself from crying. ‘Ron and I have no real relationship to speak of, and I’m sure the children are old enough to understand that. Neither of them are stupid; they must know that Ron and I aren’t happy together.’_

_‘At the very least, telling them will severely disrupt their lives; at worst it could completely ruin them. As I said, I teach both of your children, and your husband has already managed to influence them with regards to me. Being told that I am to become their new stepfather would not go down at all well, I can assure you. Your daughter is already quite difficult enough to teach without adding another excuse for her to go off the rails, and as you know, Hugo is rather a sensitive child; the trauma of such an upheaval would have a detrimental effect on both his schoolwork and his personal life. When both children are settling into their lives at Hogwarts, it would be the worst possible time to consider ending your marriage.’_

_Snape waited for a moment to see if Hermione was going to say anything, retrieving and taking another sip of his tea as he waited. When it was clear that she was going to do nothing more than look miserably at her tea he added, ‘As a teacher I have seen this happen more times than I care to remember over the years, and I can assure you that however much you might think your children will understand or that they’ll be able to cope with the separation — even leaving the inclusion of me in their lives aside for a moment — they won’t. It will be painful and messy and could end extremely badly.’_

_Still, Hermione didn’t say anything. Snape put his cup down again and reached for hers, taking the undrunk tea from her as she continued to stare at the space where the mug had been._

_‘I know this isn’t what you wanted to hear, Hermione,’ Snape said gently as he pulled her into his arms, holding her more tightly. ‘But I just couldn’t do it with a clear conscience. It really doesn’t mean I want you to leave, though.’_

_For a while they stayed like that, not moving or speaking, as Hermione went over Severus’ words in her mind. She knew Rose didn’t like her Potions Master, which quite probably was due to Ron and his bitching, but she was sure that after the immediate rush of disgust at what she was doing things would settle down and eventually her children would grow used to Severus and maybe even like him, even if they couldn’t bring themselves to love him._

_Of course, she could see how difficult it would be for him, too, to suddenly find himself the stepfather of two of his students. It wasn’t really fair of her to expect him to accept it; it would surely cause problems at school for all three of them._

_Then she remembered what Severus had said during the initial conversation, before he ran away from her. He had told her he wouldn’t do it while the children were still at school. That didn’t mean he would never marry her; she just had to be prepared to wait for him until he was ready. The thought of this was enough to cheer her spirits somewhat. She could wait; it was only a few more years, after all. And then, once the children left Hogwarts, she could finally live her dream and marry Severus._

_‘I’m sorry,’ she told him gruffly._

_Snape squeezed her. ‘No need to apologise, Hermione. But you do understand what I’m saying, don’t you?’_

_Hermione gave a small nod. ‘I understand.’_

_Snape smiled at her. ‘Do you want that tea now, before it gets cold?’ He released her and passed her the mug._

_Hermione accepted it with a small smile and took a sip._

_‘What did you do on the potion?’ she asked._

_Snape looked confused for a moment, then looked a little shame-faced. ‘I just needed to get away for a few minutes,’ he admitted. ‘I went to check that everything is going okay, but I didn’t work on it. It would have been wrong of me to do that when we’ve always done it together. That’s why I made a cup of tea instead and came back.’ He looked at her carefully. ‘So are we all right?’ he asked cautiously. ‘You’re not going to leave?’_

_Hermione shook her head. ‘I’m not going to leave . . . and I’m not going to badger you about marrying me, either, so you can rest easy.’_

_Snape looked relieved as he finished the last of his tea._

_‘Shall we go back to bed, then? It’s almost two o’clock in the morning.’_

_Hermione leant over to put her mug on the tray beside his, her breast brushing accidentally against his hand as she did so._

_‘Time to sleep, then,’ she said._

_‘Oh, I think that might have to wait for a little while,’ Snape said huskily. He had a gleam in his dark eyes. ‘Make-up sex is always the best,’ he whispered in her ear as he pushed her down beneath him._

Hermione gave a small sigh as she thought about the sex that had followed. Severus was right, it had been magnificent. It had blown away all thoughts of leaving him, something she had later come to realise was the correct decision. She stroked his chest, her fingers running through the dark hairs.

‘What’s the matter, Hermione?’ Snape’s smooth voice was quiet in the dark.

‘I didn’t know you were awake,’ Hermione said in surprise. ‘I was having trouble dropping off and was envying your ability to fall asleep so quickly.’

Snape chuckled. ‘Obviously I didn’t wear you out enough earlier.’ He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her into a kiss, then continued wickedly, ‘Allow me to help you sleep with my patented sleep method. I’m sure you’ll have no trouble once I’ve finished with you.’ He rolled her over in the bed so she was lying underneath him.

Hermione giggled as she pulled Snape’s face towards hers for another kiss. 


	8. Chapter 8

Hermione looked at herself in the mirror. Her hair was looking a bit windswept and her face was red from the stiff breeze that had accompanied the walk she and Severus had just returned from. She patted down her hair with her hand, spotting and pulling out a grey one as she did so, then leant forward to examine her face more carefully.

It was quite a shock to realise that she was heading rapidly towards fifty, as the grey hair reminded her, although it was one of the first she had come across; her wizard genes meant that she was aging far more slowly than a Muggle would so she didn’t look anywhere near her true age. She ran her finger over a crease near her eye. God, was that the start of crow’s feet?  She really was going to the dogs. Once it started it was downhill all the way. She had hoped she would have a few more years before old age started creeping up on her.

‘What are you doing?’

Snape followed her into the hall and closed the front door behind him, watching as Hermione prodded her face and tried to decide whether her lines had got deeper.

‘I’ve got crow’s feet,’ she told him plaintively. ‘And I found a grey hair.’

‘Just the one?’ Snape laughed and shook his head, his own dark hair now liberally speckled with grey. ‘Well, I can’t see any difference. You look just as beautiful as you always do.’

Hermione moved away from the mirror and into Snape’s arms as she kissed him.

‘You always say the nicest things.’

‘No, I always tell the truth,’ he retorted.

‘You do not!’ Hermione replied, sounding shocked that he had said such a thing.

‘I do. When did I last tell a lie?’

Hermione thought for a moment. ‘Apart from just now . . . when you told that reporter from the _Daily Prophet_ that you’d stopped working on any new potions because you’d decided to retire from teaching at Hogwarts, give up magic completely, and move to an Inca retreat in South America.’

Snape chuckled gruffly. ‘Oh yes, I’d forgotten about that. But to be fair, that reporter really did piss me off with all the banal questions he was asking. But lies to papers don’t count, do they? According to an article I read in _Witch Weekly_ recently, you and Weasley are planning on going to Hawaii to renew your wedding vows for your twenty-fifth wedding anniversary and are planning on having another baby.’

‘What are _you_ doing reading _Witch Weekly_?’ Hermione asked, sounding surprised. She grinned. ‘I wouldn’t have thought it at the top of your list of required reading, although I suppose it is somewhat easier going than the _Practical Potioneer_.’

Snape shrugged, looking faintly disgusted. ‘I saw your name on the cover so I bought it. It was a load of drivel. No wonder old Lockhart used to enjoy being in it. It was right up his street.’ He looked at her intently for a moment. ‘So are you?’

‘Am I what?’ Hermione asked in confusion.

‘Renewing your vows and having a baby?’ Snape said, trying to make his voice sound as flippant as possible.

‘Only if you’re moving to South America,’ Hermione replied with a grin. ‘Those Inca places are too high up for me, so I won’t be able to go with you — I assume you _were_ going to invite me?’

‘Well . . . I’m not sure I was . . . as I was going there for some peace and quiet,’ Snape said jokingly.

Hermione slapped his arm. ‘Are you saying you’re trying to get away from me? That’s not very nice, is it?’

Snape chuckled again. ‘Well, it doesn’t matter if you’re planning to have a baby. You won’t have time to work on our projects any longer as you’ll be too busy being a mother.’

‘I have to admit the idea of having another child leaves me cold,’ Hermione admitted seriously. ‘Don’t get me wrong, I love the two I’ve got but the idea of having to go through all that again with another one, especially after all these years, really doesn’t appeal at all. Also, you have to have sex to make a baby, and Ron and I haven’t had sex for almost twenty years.’

‘So I take it the vow story isn’t true, either?’ Snape said.

‘No, of course it isn’t. I’ve no idea where they got that from. I certainly didn’t talk to them and I can’t believe Ron would have done, either. Let’s face it, he doesn’t even talk to me so he’s hardly going to go opening his heart to the papers.’

Snape gave an overly dramatic sigh which was clearly put on. ‘It looks like I may have to reconsider my retirement plans after all.’

‘You and I could get married, though,’ Hermione said quietly. She could feel her heart clattering painfully, knowing she was taking a huge risk by raising the subject again, even after all these years. But if she didn’t say it now while they were having a joke, she wasn’t sure she would ever get another chance.

Snape didn’t say anything but a frown crossed his face and his arms stiffened where they were holding her.

‘I still feel the same way,’ Hermione told him honestly as she stared into his face. ‘I would do it in a heartbeat, Severus.’ Feeling suddenly overwhelmed by what she had just done and needing to put a lighter spin on it, she added, ‘Although I’m still not sure about another child. Maybe we could get a dog instead?’

The frown disappeared from Snape’s face as if he was making an effort to be pleasant, but his voice was just as sombre as he replied to her. ‘You know my feeling on this, Hermione. I know it’s been a few years since we last talked about it, but they haven’t changed and I haven’t got anywhere near easier to live with.’

‘But my children are adults now,’ Hermione pointed out. She was aware of the pleading quality to her voice and wished it didn’t sound so obvious. ‘You said not while they were at school, and I understood that. I realised the difficulties it would bring for you having to deal with them every day at Hogwarts. But they’re not there anymore, so now’s the perfect time, surely? As I said, I’ve never stopped loving you, Severus.’

‘I’m sorry, Hermione.’ Snape’s voice was deep and dark as he released her from his arms. He gave a loud and mournful sigh. ‘Perhaps we should have cleared things up properly the last time we discussed this. I told you of my feelings about you breaking up the family, and that hasn’t changed, however old they are. Your relationship with your daughter is such a fragile one and I would hate to see it broken forever because of me.’

Seeing the look of panic that crossed Hermione’s face at these words he held her close again, hugging her into his chest. After a few minutes he released his grip as she pulled away from him but looked at her intently as he spoke.

‘I’m not saying we should end our relationship, Hermione. Let’s get that clear straight away before you start thinking I’m trying to get rid of you again. That’s just not true. Nothing has changed for me, either — not the way I feel about you or the way we handle our relationship. As always, I am entirely in your hands, but I’m still not willing to be the cause of the demise of your family.’

Aware that he was probably failing in his explanation and not wanting to prolong the pain, he attempted to draw her away from the subject with another attempt at a joke. ‘And I don’t think a dog’s a good idea, either. Call me biased, but I’ve never really felt the same about them since I discovered what form Black’s Animagus took.’

‘Is this ever going to change?’ Hermione asked miserably.

She walked into the lounge and sat down on the sofa. Severus followed her and sat in his chair, still looking at her.

‘I told you I don’t want to get married, and to be honest I can’t see it changing in the future,’ Snape admitted honestly. He broke off for a moment as if thinking, then said, ‘I understand that you’re disappointed and I’m sorry, but if you’d rather—’

‘Eighteen years we’ve been together now,’ Hermione said, cutting Snape off before he could say something she didn’t want to hear. She sounded as if she was on the verge of tears. ‘Eighteen years. What do you expect me to do, Severus, leave you and go home to Ron?’ She gave a bitter laugh. ‘What good would that do? He doesn’t even talk to me and he hasn’t touched me in years.’

‘As I told you last time, I have no desire to lose you,’ Snape said calmly. ‘But you have to make the decision that’s right for you . . . just as I have to do what’s right for me.’

‘Marriage to you is what’s right for me,’ Hermione said miserably.

Snape shook his head. ‘Thinking like that is extremely limiting, Hermione. The way we are currently has far more potential, and you still have your family should anything happen to either of us. I told you before: until you experience loss — real loss — you won’t understand how important your family are.’  

_‘But I want you as my family,’_ Hermione wanted to say, but instead she remained silent. She knew Severus would be as unbending about this as he had been last time; and she knew, too, that she was never going to leave him, whether he married her or not. She had no real life away from him now. It was just a part she played, a mask she wore until she was back at Spinner’s End with the man she loved more than anything in the world. Unless he forced her to leave she would cling to him until the end of time.

‘It’s a shame about the dog,’ she said after a few more minutes of silence, wanting desperately to lighten the mood. ‘I rather like them and I could see you taking a white Pomeranian for a walk. It would suit you down to the ground.’

Snape scowled deeply. ‘You were thinking of getting a hand muff? I assumed you meant a real dog, not some stupid little yappy thing.’

‘Would it make a difference?’ Hermione asked hopefully. A dog wasn’t marriage, but it was a commitment of sorts as it would belong to both of them.

Snape stared at her for a few seconds, then sighed again. ‘Do you want a dog?’ he asked mildly, already sure he knew the answer before Hermione said it.

‘Those little white balls of fluff are so cute,’ Hermione said. ‘And they don’t shed much hair and they’re quite easy to look after.’

‘If you’re after a ball of fluff perhaps you should try a Puffskein. You don’t even have to take them for a walk,’ Snape retorted drily, but he was smiling, relieved that Hermione had backed off from the marriage discussion again.

He was glad she seemed to have accepted his decision without asking for a deeper response as to why he didn’t want to marry her because he wasn’t sure he would have known what to say. It wasn’t as if he had never considered it — he had, several times over the years — but he had deep-rooted problems where marriage was concerned, and he honestly did believe that Hermione would be better off keeping her family around her rather than abandoning them to become his wife.

Snape was under no illusion that they would want anything to do with them if that happened. At the age of sixty-seven it was too late for him to break the habits he had accumulated over a lifetime of bachelorhood; marriage would be a completely different proposition from the few days he and Hermione currently spent together at Spinner’s End each month, and he wasn’t sure that in the long term he would be able to make her happy.

His basis for this thought was his own parents’ marriage, which had been anything but happy for any of them. Although they had both been dead a long time, sometimes he couldn’t help but wish that his parents could have put aside their differences long enough to build a stable home for him. But that hadn’t happened, and before he was even old enough to attend Hogwarts he had known he could only rely on himself.

Even though Hermione’s children had now left school and were more than capable of fending for themselves, he still couldn’t take that step that would see the family unit split up. There had been that brief period during his early and mid-teens when marriage had seemed a possibility for him, and he had harboured a secret desire to make Lily his wife. But that, too, had ended in disaster with the love of his life marrying one of his most hated enemies. It was then that he had realised he was never meant to marry; the happy family life he desired so much was never to be his.

It had taken decades before he could even think of Lily without the pain of that betrayal ripping his heart apart, although his beautiful Hermione had gone a long way towards helping him with that. But even though he was sure Hermione really did love him and he cared very deeply for her in return, he couldn’t risk opening himself up to the sort of heartache that would occur if he couldn’t make her happy.

He really didn’t want a dog, especially not one of those toy ones that seemed designed to do nothing but bark and get in the way, but it seemed Hermione was keen, presumably thinking that as a joint commitment it would make things between them more permanent. Although Snape knew it would be a pain in the arse to look after, especially when he was at Hogwarts, it would be a compromise he could make, a gesture to prove that he really did care for his beautiful lover.

‘If you want a dog we’ll get a dog,’ he told Hermione quietly, smiling himself as she beamed at him, her eyes glittering with excitement. ‘We can go to the dogs’ home tomorrow morning if you want and see if there’s anything suitable.’

Hermione leapt up from the sofa and joined Snape in his chair, wrapping her arms around him as she kissed him.

‘Thank you, Severus,’ she breathed happily.

‘Well, if we’re getting a dog I’ll definitely have to cancel my trip to South America,’ he told her, sounding resigned, and he pulled her close for another kiss.

       

 

* * *

 

 

‘What’s the matter, Hermione? You don’t seem quite your normal self.’

Snape looked worriedly at his lover as she bent down and stroked the dog, who was overjoyed to see her. Although they had got together fairly regularly over the years, it had been several months since they last managed to spend some time alone at Spinner’s End and her mood was nothing like he had expected it to be.

 She was usually so pleased to see him, buoyant at the thought of a few days away from her husband, yet on this occasion she seemed flat, even disinterested. For a moment he wondered whether she was going to mention marriage again and his heart sank as he thought about how he was destined to do nothing but disappoint his lover. How many times could he say no before she finally left him for good?

But looking closely at Hermione’s face he realised that their relationship was not the cause of her current mood. He waited for her to speak, although he thought he knew what the problem was. It was always the same problem, if truth be told.

Hermione sighed loudly, then as she disengaged herself from the excited dog, said despondently, ‘Rose.’

‘It always is,’ Snape replied gently. ‘So what’s she done this time?’ He pulled Hermione into a hug, kissing her forehead gently. ‘Come on, get it off your chest and you’ll feel better. You know that’s what I’m here for.’

Hermione shook her head, sighing again. ‘I just don’t understand why—’ She stopped, shook her head again, gave another huge sigh, then continued, ‘That bloody girl is so selfish. She never thinks of anyone but herself, and she’s not even thinking about herself properly. But of course, I can’t say anything to her, can I? You know what she’s like with me . . . and Ron won’t say anything to her because he doesn’t want to upset his perfect little princess. It’s bloody ridiculous, really.’

Rant now out of the way, Hermione deflated a little, resting her head on Snape’s shoulder.

‘Why is she so bloody stupid?’ she added angrily.

Snape had no idea what Rose had done this time. She was always up to something pretty much guaranteed to annoy her mother, although whether that was by design or default he had never quite been able to establish. Ever since her arrival at Hogwarts the girl had been trying her parents’, especially her mother’s patience, and growing up hadn’t made her less strong-willed, although that wasn’t too much of a surprise with the parents she had. Hermione and her daughter had always had a difficult relationship — mainly, Hermione explained, because of Ron’s spoiling of the child. Growing up hadn’t seemed to make them any closer.

‘She’s definitely not stupid,’ Snape pointed out carefully. ‘Headstrong and pig-headed, maybe, but she’s got far too much of her mother in her for her to ever be considered stupid.’

‘Well, she’s acting like she is,’ Hermione replied bullishly. She pulled out of Snape’s arms and walked towards the kitchen, intending to make a cup of tea. Her voice dripping with disgust, she added, ‘She’s told us she’s going to marry Alfric.’

‘Alfric Speedwell?’ Snape asked interestedly, trying not to antagonise Hermione any further than she already was.

‘Of course it’s that . . . that . . . obnoxious, brash . . . grrr . . . how many other Alfrics do you know of who are Rose’s age?’

Snape gave a small shrug. ‘Well, there were three in the school at the same time as Rose,’ he said patiently, ‘although as far as I’m aware Speedwell was the only one she spent any significant time with.’ He broke off for a moment before adding, ‘She’s going to marry him? I thought you said they had cooled their relationship.’

‘I thought they had. As far as I knew they were finished and she was seeing Lorcan Treadforth. I wasn’t keen on him, either, but at least he was better than loathsome Alfric.’

Snape took the just-filled kettle from Hermione’s hands. She was shaking with anger and slopping water everywhere. ‘Here, let me do that. You go and sit down with Bertie and try to calm down a bit. I’ll join you shortly once the tea is made.’ 

Hermione looked for a moment as if she was going to retaliate, clearly wanting an argument, but then relented and headed back to the lounge, the dog following her. Snape watched her go before turning to put the kettle on the stove. As he got the tea things from the cupboard he thought about Hermione’s daughter. Rose Weasley had been a difficult child, a precocious and even more difficult teenager, and now she was turning into a nightmare of an adult, too, it seemed.

While he wasn’t proud to admit it, he had never been very keen on the girl. Even though she was Hermione’s daughter — and very definitely so, with her keen mind and fierce intellect — she didn’t have her mother’s kindness. Instead, she had inherited all her father’s worst traits — his bullheadedness and his ability to fly off the handle, along with the red hair he had also given her. But he had also spoilt her so badly that she had grown up feeling entitled and it hadn’t improved her behaviour or attitude one little bit.

That she was attracted to Alfric Speedwell didn’t come as any real surprise to Snape. Alfric was handsome and popular, but as with all those good-looking boys who came from money and old Pure-blood families, he was arrogant and capable of being a bully. Rose was a pretty girl, which made his attraction to her understandable, especially when they both had such similar attitudes. Snape’s view was that they actually made a pretty good couple, and at least if they were together they weren’t ruining the lives of two other decent people.

Of course, Hermione would never see it that way. Although she was well aware of her daughter’s faults she had spent many years trying to pretend there was nothing wrong with her, mainly because she couldn’t talk to Rose without the girl losing her temper. Snape wasn’t sure if the two of them had ever actually had a proper heart-to-heart since Rose had started at Hogwarts; but then the girl no longer seemed that close to Ron, either, from the little Hermione had told him. As far as he could judge she was pretty much out of control and not likely to listen to anyone, least of all her parents.       

He knew there was nothing he could do, either to stop the wedding or to calm Hermione down. He would just have to let her simmer for a while and eventually she would get over it on her own. He did know of a few things he could do to help her along, though; that was one of the reasons she came to visit him, after all. He put the now-filled mugs on the tray and picked it up, heading for the lounge. It was time for him to work his magic and take his beautiful lover’s mind off the frustrations of her awful family for a while.


	9. Chapter 9

The owl flew through the open window and landed on the table. Hermione was at the stove dishing up her breakfast and ignored it. It wasn’t likely to be for her, it never was these days. Ron detached the letter it carried and gave the bird some of his bacon rind, waiting until it flew away before looking at the envelope.

‘It’s for you,’ he said in surprise.

‘Who’s it from?’ Hermione asked interestedly.

‘No idea. Looks official, though,’ Ron replied, turning the envelope over to undo the seal. He removed a piece of parchment and read through it.

‘It’s from Snape’s solicitors: Messrs Passmore, Stiles and Stubbs,’ he said. ‘They want you to go to their offices. Something about his will.’

Hermione started at the unexpected mention of Severus.

‘Oh. Have they given a date to go?’

‘No, just mentioned as soon as is convenient for you. They’re based near to Diagon Alley, so we could go there later today if you want.’ Ron refolded the parchment and put it back into the envelope, placing it on the table next to the teapot.

Hermione closed her eyes for a second, trying to quell the tears that threatened at the mention of Severus’ name.

‘If you don’t mind?’ she asked meekly.

Ron shook his head, smiling. ‘We needed to go shopping anyway. I need to get some dragon fertiliser for the garden, and didn’t you say you wanted to get a new gown for Molly’s twenty-first birthday party? We can go there, have lunch at the Leaky Cauldron; then head off to the solicitor’s office afterwards.’

Hermione put her plate on the table and smiled fondly at her husband before sitting down and picking up her knife and fork.

‘I wonder why they want to see me?’ she mused.

‘Perhaps Snape left you all his money,’ Ron replied. ‘I mean, he must have got paid for working at Hogwarts, and for the Wolfsbane Potion, and the only thing he ever bought was black robes, so he must have been rolling in it. And after all, he didn’t have anyone else to leave it to, did he? You were the only one who could ever stand being near him. I’m sure you deserve _something_ for all those years of devotion to the snarky bastard.’

Hermione’s face furrowed unhappily at her husband’s words. Even after all these years, even after Severus’ death, Ron still couldn’t bring himself to admit that there was any worth in the Potions Master. But she wasn’t about to start an argument. She needed to go to the solicitors and find out why they wanted to see her, and she had a feeling the trip was going to upset her. She didn’t really need to be any more upset.

She took a mouthful of her bacon, then once she had swallowed said, ‘I need to talk to Ginny before we go shopping. I need to check what colour she, Lily and Molly are wearing so I don’t clash.’

Ron rolled his eyes but smiled. ‘Does it matter?’

‘Of course it does,’ Hermione said. ‘Just because you men have no sense of style doesn’t mean we women don’t.’

Ron shook his head, still smiling, and picked up the newspaper, turning to the back page to check out the Quidditch scores. Hermione ate the rest of her breakfast in silence.

 

 

* * *

 

 

‘Mrs Weasley, we are the executors of Severus Snape’s will. We have invited you here as Professor Snape has named you as sole beneficiary,’ said the well-dressed young man sitting opposite Hermione.

Hermione looked stunned. Severus _had_ left everything to her. Although Ron had joked about Severus’ money, she had never really expected him to leave it to her, certainly not everything. She thought about her lover for a moment, trying to stop the tears pricking her eyes. She would have happily given it all up if only she could have him back, even just for a few minutes. The young solicitor looked at her kindly, waiting a moment for her to absorb the shock before he continued.

‘Professor Snape has left you his home in Spinner’s End along with all of its contents, and of course all his belongings and Potions equipment from Hogwarts.’ He smiled at the surprised woman. ‘In addition, there is a key to a vault in Gringotts, the contents of which now belong to you.’ He patted a red folder embossed with the bank’s crest that rested on his desk. ‘The detail of the contents and the current market value of the items it contains are in here. Obviously, you can take that with you when you go.’

He waited silently.

‘Are you sure this was all for me?’ Hermione asked slowly. She was still trying to get over the fact that Severus had left her Spinner’s End, the home they had been so happy in for the last fifty-odd years.

The solicitor nodded. Then he seemed to remember something. He opened his desk drawer and removed a manila envelope. He smiled and passed it across the desk to Hermione.

‘Professor Snape requested that I give you this in the event of his death.’

The envelope was heavy and there was a clinking sound. Was there a necklace or something in there?

‘Thank you, Mr Stiles,’ Hermione said quietly, trying not to cry, her shaking hands dabbing at the corners of her eyes with her handkerchief.

Even though it had been several weeks since his death, any reminder of Severus set off her tears. This whole visit had been a little overwhelming for Hermione. She put the envelope into her handbag, then stood and shook hands with the solicitor.

‘I am truly sorry for your loss, Mrs Weasley,’ Mr Stiles said soothingly as he passed her the folder containing the details of her inheritance. ‘Professor Snape was a great man. You and he did some truly fine work together.’

Hermione looked surprised. ‘You know of our work?’

Stiles nodded. ‘I have an uncle who is a werewolf,’ he explained. ‘Your potion completely changed his life. You and Professor Snape are much talked about in history lessons, Mrs Weasley.’

Hermione smiled delightedly. ‘Good, I’m glad. And you’re right, Severus was a great man — he was completely brilliant!’

Feeling warmer inside now and still smiling, Hermione walked towards the door to go and re-join Ron.

 

 

* * *

 

 

When they arrived home she excused herself to look at the contents of the envelope on her own. She had told Ron about Snape’s bequest, and although he expressed some surprise it wasn’t really a shock. He knew Snape had no one to leave his belongings to except Hermione. After all, she was about the only one apart from Professor Dumbledore who had ever liked the taciturn man and certainly the only one who had willingly spent any length of time in his company outside of classes for about the last fifty years.

Ron headed into the kitchen to make Hermione a cup of tea and give her a chance to read in private the letter Snape had obviously left her. He looked at the clock and sighed. Rose and her husband Alfric would be round shortly to check on them, the same way they had done every week for the last eighteen months. They always couched the visits as purely social, but both Ron and Hermione knew Rose was checking to see if they had gone ga-ga yet and needed putting into a nursing home.

He was determined that if anything ever happened to Hermione he would look after her, and he was sure she would do the same for him. They’d had a tough marriage with more than its fair share of bumps, but they were still together and had just celebrated sixty-two years of marriage.

At least Hermione had never left him for Snape. That was something Ron had dreaded over the years. As he and his wife’s relationship grew worse, his need for her to stay at home colouring his feelings towards her, he had occasionally wondered whether Hermione and Snape were having an affair, although how anyone could be attracted to the great greasy git he would never know.

Ron had spent a great deal of time worrying that she would leave him, preferring to be with the intelligent Potions Master than with her family. But his fears were apparently unfounded. Although Snape and his wife remained close friends and work partners and had, it had to be admitted, achieved some brilliant things together over the years, their relationship had never developed into anything more romantic.

Ron had indulged in affairs — several in fact over the years — but strangely it had never really occurred to him to leave Hermione either even though he had children with two of his other lovers, finally getting the large family he had always wanted even if he couldn’t get them all in one place. Hermione had never known about his playing away or the other children, but by then their sex life was long over.

In the early days, he had occasionally felt guilty about his infidelity as he was aware that it was he who had initially withheld the sex within his marriage in annoyance over Hermione’s refusal to give up work. But as the years went on it and it became obvious that Hermione wasn’t bothered that there was no intimacy between them any longer he stopped feeling guilty about getting gratification elsewhere. He still loved his wife and always would, but for the last forty-odd years they’d been more like the friends they had been at school than lovers, which wasn’t a bad thing.

As far as he knew, only his mother had any knowledge of his infidelity; Ron had never even discussed it with Harry as he was acutely aware that Harry was Hermione’s best friend, too, and it would put him in an awful position if Ron had opened up to him.

Ron had admitted his infidelity to Molly during an extremely drunken conversation late one night at the Burrow over Christmas several years before, when he had been feeling particularly unhappy about Hermione’s relationship with Snape, annoyed at himself for not taking control of his relationship with her better, and guilty, too, about not being able to spend Christmas with his illegitimate children. His morose feeling was mainly caused by his then lover Katie’s dissatisfaction with him at his refusal to end his marriage.

He knew his mother didn’t condone what he had done — actually, that was something of an understatement: she’d had plenty to say on the subject, and none of it good — and by the time she finished with him Ron regretted having allowed his secret to slip out. But she was his mother and of course, she forgave him and kept his secret even when another mistress, his current, had followed Katie.

He poured the milk into the cups of tea he had made for himself and Hermione, gave them a final stir, then headed back towards the lounge. Suddenly he stopped. From behind the door came sounds of pain. Hermione was sobbing uncontrollably as if she was in agony. Rage flared inside Ron. Snape had done this to her. After all this time, the bastard had done something to hurt Hermione.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Sitting on the sofa, Hermione had looked at the envelope for a good couple of minutes before opening it, torn between a desire to know what Severus had left her and the fear that she would be upset by whatever it contained. Finally, with shaking hands she unsealed the envelope and tipped the contents into her palm. She looked at the gleaming gold chain with the attached pendant for what seemed like an eternity, then put it safely into the pocket of her cardigan and pulled out the accompanying letter. For a moment she couldn’t focus through the tears that swam in her eyes at the sight of Severus’ handwriting. Even that was enough to make her heart break all over again. But she pulled a handkerchief from her pocket and dabbed at her eyes, eventually clearing them enough to read Severus’ final words to her.  

 

_My darling Hermione,_

_If you are reading this then I have finally succumbed to the cancer that has been eating away at me for the last few years. I am sorry, my love, that I didn’t tell you earlier that I was ill; that I didn’t reveal to you that I was dying from this foul disease, but I knew if I did then you would do everything in your power to keep me alive — but I don’t want to stay alive, sweet one. The pain is so intense now and the treatments aren’t working. I can tell that much, whatever the Healers try to tell me. Even I am unable to make a potion strong enough to ease the pain anymore. I love you, more than anything in the world, but I can’t stay with you any longer. After fifty-four years I know you will never be completely mine; however much you love me, your husband and children will always come first. This is as it should be, as I urged you to hold to for so long. After all, your family is the most important thing you have, especially now. But with the pain I’m in I can’t face more years of long stretches of being alone with only such a little time with you to ease my suffering._

_Please know that I do love you, Hermione. I know I never told you, not once in all the time we’ve been together. I really don’t know why I’ve never done so because I’ve known it ever since the first time we made love, since that first wonderful night in the Leaky Cauldron. In all the years since then I’ve never stopped loving you; in fact, to me you’ve become more beautiful every day. Every time I see you my heart soars with desire at how gorgeous you are, and each day we spend together makes it more difficult for me to say a final goodbye to you. Now the end has come and I wish I hadn’t spent all those years convincing you to stay with Weasley. Instead, I should have fought for you, should have made you my wife and had the children I never thought I wanted but now realise I sorely miss. But please don’t think I regret a single minute of the time we’ve spent together, my love. I really have treasured every moment and you have made me so much happier than I ever had any right to be._

_My biggest regret goes back to the award ceremony that night at the Ministry of Magic, so long ago. I was attracted to you even then; in fact, I desired you with a passion I didn’t dare admit to. I didn’t act, convinced that you would be horrified at my attentions — that my ugliness would disgust you, and that our difference in age was just too great for us to ever be truly happy as a couple — which shows how little I knew the real you then. Would things have been different if I had approached you that night and told you of my feelings, knowing now that you already harboured feelings for me in return? Maybe you would have been my wife instead of Weasley’s, our life lived together from that day forward._

_But it’s too late now for maybes and wishes. We made our choices and we’ve lived with them for the last half a century. Please don’t grieve for me, my love. I’m not unhappy except that I leave you behind and won’t see your beautiful face anymore. Enjoy the rest of your life, my beloved. I sincerely hope it will be a long one filled with joy and laughter. Try to love your husband and enjoy your children and their offspring, as time goes all too quickly and before you know it you are taken away from those you love the most. If there is anything at all after this life, it is my sincerest hope that we will meet again at some time. To see you just once more would be the greatest pleasure I could ever receive._

_Be safe, my sweet love,_

_Your Severus_

 

Before she even reached the end of the letter Hermione was weeping loudly, great wracking sobs as her grief overwhelmed her, everything she had bottled up since Severus’ death pouring out of her like a flood. Ron pushed the door open and rushed to her, dumping the mugs on the coffee table as he dropped to her side on the sofa and pulled her into his arms.

‘What’s the matter, love?’ he asked worriedly. ‘What did the bastard do?’

But Hermione was inconsolable, unable to speak through the floods of tears, and Ron could do nothing more than hold her while she wept.

She had just about managed to stop crying when a voice sounded loudly outside the door.

‘Mum, Dad? Are you in there?’ The door opened and Rose walked into the lounge, followed a moment later by her brother, Hugo. ‘What’s the matter?’ she asked, looking at her parents. She could see Hermione’s distress.

‘Your mother is a little upset at the moment,’ Ron told them. ‘We’ve just returned from sorting out Snape’s will at the solicitors.’

Rose gave a distasteful look. ‘I thought _that_ was all over and done with. He died weeks ago.’

Ron scowled at his daughter for her insensitivity as Hermione started to cry softly again.

‘Perhaps it would be better if the two of you came back another time,’ he suggested quietly. ‘I don’t think your mother’s really up for a chat at the moment.’

Hugo looked embarrassed and eyed the door as if ready to make a quick getaway, but Rose moved towards the coffee table instead, reaching down to pick up the letter Hermione had dropped there. With a screech of pain, Hermione slapped her hand away, grabbing the letter and clutching it to her chest as she wailed loudly. She hadn’t yet had time to fully digest its contents nor to discuss it with Ron so she certainly wasn’t willing to share it with her daughter.

Rose recoiled in shock. ‘She’s mad!’ she announced, her voice high-pitched. ‘She’s gone completely mental.’ She turned to Hugo. ‘See, I told you. We need to do something about them. We need to get them taken care of.’

‘Your mother isn’t mad,’ Ron said angrily. ‘She’s grieving the loss of a close friend. There’s nothing wrong with her.’

‘I know you want to think that, Dad,’ Rose said, her voice softer yet still patronising. ‘But look at her. She’s not normal. She keeps disappearing for no good reason and she’s a mess. I’m not blaming you because you’re trying your best. But I don’t think you can cope with her and it would do you good to have a rest as well.’

Ron glared at his daughter. ‘Your mother has not been _disappearing_. She was at the hospital spending time with a close friend during the final hours of his terminal illness. While that might have been a pain for you to have to deal with, Rose, it certainly hasn’t been a hardship for me and I supported her wholeheartedly. We are both of us perfectly healthy, both physically and mentally, thank you very much, and we have no need of any help of any description. In fact, I’m extremely disappointed that you feel the need to so blatantly suggest that your mother and I aren’t fit to look after ourselves when that’s quite clearly not the case.’

Hugo looked embarrassed, his head hanging to look at his shoes. Rose glared angrily at her father and opened her mouth as if she was about to speak, but Ron stopped her with a shake of his head.

‘I think it would be a good idea if you left now, Rose — and you too, Hugo — before one of us says something we’ll regret later,’ he told them tersely.

Hermione looked at Ron gratefully. She definitely wasn’t up to dealing with her daughter at the moment and it was good to know that he didn’t think her mad for her actions since Severus was admitted to hospital. For a moment a feeling of love for her husband that she hadn’t felt for years filled her heart.

Hugo moved across the room and bent down by his mother, giving her a tight hug.

‘I’m sorry,’ he whispered into her hair, then gave her a kiss.

Hermione gave a small smile through her tears and hugged him back. Standing again, he headed for the door, touching Rose’s arm en route.

‘Come on, Rosie, let’s go. We can come back next week when Mum’s calmed down.’

Rose looked angrily at her brother and shrugged off his arm but said quietly, ‘You’re right, let’s go. I’ll see you later, Mum . . . Dad.’

Ron gently patted Hermione’s hand, then stood up and followed his children to the door. ‘I want a quick word with you before you go,’ he said, and he went out into the hall, pulling the door to behind him.

Hermione un-crumpled the letter that had been screwed up when she grabbed it, and smoothed it out as she looked at it again. She could hear Ron and Rose still arguing in the hall, although she couldn’t hear what they were saying. She took one more look at the letter and then folded it carefully, putting it with the necklace in her pocket. Ron re-entered the lounge, looking worriedly at Hermione as he came to sit beside her on the sofa. Hermione gave him a small smile.

‘They’ve gone,’ he said. ‘Rose isn’t happy, but then she never is these days. Poor Hugo is just a bit embarrassed at the way his sister acted.’

‘Thank you,’ Hermione said sincerely, taking his hand and kissing it. ‘I really appreciate what you said.’

Ron flushed with embarrassment. ‘I just said what was true,’ he said gruffly, dropping Hermione’s hand and picking up his mug. He took a sip of his tea.

He knew he ought to talk to Hermione, should ask her if she wanted to talk about the visit to the solicitor and about the letter she hadn’t wanted to share with her daughter, even just to check that she was all right. But after so many years of not talking about anything serious with her he found it hard to start now. There were too many things that had never been said, too many years of things being swept under the carpet, and he wasn’t at all sure his wife would want to talk to him.

Hermione knew she should talk to Ron, should show him Severus’ letter. But that would dredge up things they had ignored for over fifty years and she didn’t feel strong enough to start raking through the debris of their marriage while she still felt so raw at the loss of Severus. What she needed to do was go away, to be on her own. She wanted to understand Severus’ letter to her and reconcile herself to the reality of his death before she could work out what to do about and say to Ron. She picked up the mug of tea Ron had brought her and began to drink, even though it was now almost cold, trying to think of a way to tell him what she needed to do. She decided to go with the direct approach.

‘I need to go away for a few days.’

Ron looked at Hermione in surprise. ‘Go where?’

Hermione thought for a moment. ‘Severus left me his house as well as all his belongings. I would like to go through them, pack away his things and take some time to reflect . . . to mourn for him.’

Ron’s immediate reaction was to say no. He didn’t want her to be alone in her time of grief and, strangely after all these years, he felt jealous even though he knew that with Snape dead he had absolutely no reason to be. But after looking into Hermione’s eyes he knew he wouldn’t stop her. She was right: she needed closure on Snape’s death, time to make her peace with what had happened to him, and he knew she couldn’t do that while she was here with him. 

He nodded to show his agreement. ‘If you need any help, you know where I am,’ he said quietly.

Hermione hugged Ron tightly, grateful for his understanding, and he hugged her back, enjoying the feel of her in his arms. It was probably the first time they had been this way for at least a decade. He wondered whether he should tell her about the argument he’d had with Rose but decided he would leave that, too. Hermione had more than enough to think about already without adding an ungrateful daughter to the mix.


	10. Chapter 10

Hermione stood in the middle of the room with her eyes closed. She took a deep breath. Although it had been several months since Severus had last been at Spinner’s End, the place still smelt of him — that mixture of herbs and sandalwood she had always found so arousing. Although faint, the smell was still detectable, especially when she entered the bedroom; the sheets, which had obviously not been changed since his admittance to hospital holding his aroma, reminded her so strongly of her lover that with her eyes closed it was almost as if he was still there, albeit a little way away from her.

She sat down on the bed and picked up a pillow, which she brought to her nose and inhaled deeply. Severus’ scent assailed her senses, and with surprise Hermione realised she was crying — big, fat, silent teardrops sliding down her cheeks. She lay down on the bed, still holding tight to the pillow as she cried. She closed her eyes once more and pretended he was still with her, wrapping herself in memories of the happy times she and Severus had spent together in this very room.

 

 

* * *

 

 

When Hermione awoke she was surprised to discover that she had slept all night on Severus’ bed. It was many years since she had slept more than a few hours a night, but the stress and the overwhelming sense of loss she had felt since arriving at Spinner’s End had obviously worn her out and her body had reacted accordingly. Reluctantly, she let go of the pillow that she had held on to all night and sat up, stretching and flexing her body to iron out the kinks before getting off the bed.

After taking a shower and dressing in clean clothes she left the bedroom and entered the well-filled lounge, which had been made more cramped by a pile of crates stacked in the centre of the room. She knew from having looked the previous day and from the crest on the side of each crate that it was Severus’ Potions equipment from Hogwarts. She would need to go through it and see what, if anything, she wanted to keep. But before she tackled the crates and Severus’ laboratory she wanted to examine and catalogue the books that lined almost every wall of the lounge.

She headed for the kitchen, finding and filling the kettle to make some tea, then opened the cupboards to take stock of what food Severus had in the house. She soon discovered there wasn’t much, although she wasn’t really surprised by this. She congratulated herself for having had the foresight to bring along some milk and teabags or she wouldn’t even have been able to have a cup of tea. As she sat at the kitchen table sipping her tea she made a list of the things she needed to buy when she went shopping, reminding herself not to go too mad as she wasn’t going to be staying forever. She just needed enough to last her for a few days while she cleared out the house.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Hermione sat avidly reading an old and very rare Potions book she had found on one of the bookshelves. She was curled up in the chair Severus had always sat in as she studied the interesting tome. She had spent almost four days going through Severus’ books, packing away those she either already owned or had little interest in, and she was just about ready to start on the potions equipment. But first she needed a break, and the discovery of the book had given her the opportunity to relax for a while and lose herself in its fascinating contents. Pausing from the book for a moment she took a sip of the wine she had poured to accompany her reading and took a moment to take stock of where she had got to.

Her time at Spinner’s End had been emotional, extremely emotional, but she knew that she had made the right decision in coming. The act of sorting out and packing away Severus’ belongings, whilst extremely hard and understandably upsetting, was helping to give her the closure she so desperately needed. She had sobbed for hours upon emptying Severus’ wardrobe, holding onto one of the black frock coats he had always worn since she had known him, even during their last days together; her grief at this tangible reminder of her lover tearing at her heart until she thought she could bear it no longer. But eventually, she was able to pack away the clothes, the pain of separation from Severus no longer so immediate.   

Although initially painful, the experience was proving cathartic. Part of her longed to stay sequestered at Spinner’s End for the rest of her life, away from everything and everyone, living with her memories of Severus and the love they had shared for so many years. But she was aware that this wasn’t a realistic proposition. As much as she might desire to stay cooped up alone in this quiet old house with only her memories and a selection of books for company, she had a family to think about. She knew she needed to get back to them, and sooner rather than later.

One thing Hermione had learned was that she was no longer scared. During her time here alone she had come to realise that her entire life had been spent in fear of one sort or another. Her teenage years had been spent fearing the rise of Voldemort and what would happen if he took over and Harry was defeated. And then she had been afraid she wouldn’t be good enough to be a Potions Mistress; that she would fail at the one thing she so desperately wanted to achieve. This was followed by marriage and motherhood, something she knew she hadn’t been much good at, and all the attendant fears that went with having others to care for. Her years with Severus, too, had been peppered with fears: that their love affair would be discovered, that Ron would leave her and she would have to cope with bringing up the children alone, and more importantly that Severus would decide he no longer wanted her in his life and would end their relationship and stop working with her. That last fear had stayed with her until the very end, until it became clear that Severus was dying and he would leave her only because he had no choice.  

But now she was no longer scared. Although she didn’t have any idea what the future would hold she was now certain that she could deal with it as she had dealt with every other difficult situation in her life. And she had her family. Her wonderful, huge and caring family would always be there for her, thanks to Severus and his now somewhat more understandable insistence that she not break those bonds. She wasn’t yet sure what she was going to do with Spinner’s End, but she knew that whatever she eventually decided, Severus would be happy with her choice.

She looked at the huge pile of potions equipment stacked in the middle of the room and sighed. She still had so much to do. Tomorrow she would contact Ron and get him to come and join her at the house. Together they would get everything packed away so much more quickly than she could manage on her own; then she could go home and would hopefully be ready to face everyone at Molly’s birthday party on Saturday evening.

Smiling now that she had made the decision, she took another large sip of wine and then re-opened the book and settled into reading once more.


	11. Chapter 11

 

Hermione looked around the room. There were so many people here and yet she felt out of place. It wasn’t that Ron had left her alone, sitting at this table while he propped up the bar with his brothers and Harry, or that apart from the odd smile or wave no one seemed to want to socialise with her but preferred to leave her to her own thoughts. That had never been a problem and was par for the course at this sort of event. There was absolutely no reason for her to feel this way. The room was full of family and friends, people she had loved for almost seventy-five years, and yet tonight they seemed as strangers to her. Even those she knew best and loved most she saw in a new light.

However hard she tried to do as Severus requested and continue with her life, she had to admit she was finding it a struggle. Even now, almost seven months after his death, Hermione couldn’t stop the tears that came to her eyes whenever she thought of the man to whom she had given her heart; and the life that had previously seemed so rich and full now seemed like a pale ghost of what had gone before. Absentmindedly, she looked over at the next table. Her daughter Rose and her loathsome husband Alfric were talking intently to Hugo. From the look on Hugo’s face and Rose’s stance it was clear she was lecturing her brother about something; Hermione was sure it was about Hugo’s laxity at checking up on her and Ron over the last few months.

After Rose’s insensitivity on the day when Hermione had seen the solicitor, Ron had sent her away with a flea in her ear and since then she hadn’t been round to visit. But although she and her husband stayed away, she sent Hugo. Hermione knew that while Hugo didn’t mind visiting his parents, he didn’t like acting as a spy for Rose — or more accurately, for Alfric. For Hermione knew that it was he who had planted in Rose’s mind the idea that if her parents were too feeble to care for themselves they could be placed in a home and their assets disposed of and shared by their children. Although not as affluent as a family like the Malfoys, Ron and Hermione had managed to achieve a fairly luxurious lifestyle over the years through their hard work and diligence, and their estate, even without Severus’ wealth, was worth inheriting.

Hermione looked at her son-in-law, checking out the lantern-jawed man. He was handsome, she supposed. Tall and muscular, with a good head of golden brown hair, bright blue eyes, and perfect white teeth, he looked like a film star . . . or like some strange love child of Gilderoy Lockhart and Lucius Malfoy. That idea alone was enough to make her suspicious of the man, but the way he had manipulated her daughter over the years, subtly but surely, convinced Hermione that he wasn’t a man to be trusted.

Of course, she could never tell her daughter that. Even had her relationship with Rose been closer than it was — Rose had always been a daddy’s girl and rarely confided anything in her mother — Hermione could see how deeply in love Rose was. Telling her would do no good; in fact, it might even serve to drive a deeper wedge between her and Hermione. Although Hermione suspected Ron wasn’t any more happy about the relationship than she was, he had never broached the subject with his daughter either. This was yet another thing he and Hermione hadn’t been able to talk about lest her anger over his spoiling of their daughter should cause yet another crack in their own fragile relationship, so instead, they kept quiet about their concerns and pretended not to notice when the rare visits from their children turned into more regular ones and questions about their health and ability to cope became the main topics of conversation.

Hermione looked down at her glass. It was empty. She reached across the table and pulled a bottle of white wine from a cooler and refilled her glass.

‘Busy cogitating, or can I join you?’ Ginny dropped into the seat next to Hermione, taking the bottle from her to fill her own glass. She placed the almost empty bottle back in the cooler.    

‘I was just looking at Alfric,’ Hermione said. She took a sip of her wine.

‘That would explain the look on your face, then,’ Ginny said with a laugh. ‘You really don’t like him, do you?’

‘I just don’t trust him, Gin. He reminds me too much of Gilderoy Lockhart and Lucius Malfoy.’

Ginny gave an exaggerated shudder of disgust. ‘No wonder, then. Although I’m sure he’s not that bad.’

‘No? Have your children taken to suggesting that you and Harry should be in a home?’

Ginny grinned. ‘James mentioned it once over dinner about twenty years ago. Harry told him he was still a better Seeker than James would ever be. That shut him up!’

‘Yes, but that was a joke,’ Hermione said looking grim. ‘Rose and Alfric are serious. And I am sure they bully poor Hugo into continuing the persecution now that they’re no longer visiting.’

‘Persecution? Is that really what you feel it is?’ Ginny asked. She had stopped grinning. ‘What does Ron say about it?’

Hermione shrugged and sighed. ‘We don’t talk about it, just like we don’t talk about anything. Honestly, Gin, I think the last time we had a proper sensible discussion was before Hugo was born. Well, if you exclude the arguments about me working, that is.’

Ginny looked closely at Hermione for a moment, then she took her hand. ‘I think you need to discuss it with Ron,’ she said quietly. ‘It’s obviously stressing you out.’

‘It’s not just that,’ Hermione admitted, but her face said that she didn’t want to discuss it with Ginny.

‘No, I know,’ Ginny said with a sigh. ‘I think you and Ron have a lot of things you have needed to talk about for a long time. And I think the time has finally come where you really can’t put it off any longer.’

Hermione looked towards the bar, where her husband appeared to be in a drinking race with Harry and George, and shook her head.

‘Not tonight,’ she said. ‘Another few of those and he won’t be able to stand.’

‘Tell me about it,’ Ginny said bitterly. She looked in thinly veiled disgust at her husband and sighed. ‘I’ll get James and Albus to make sure they get home safely. At least they seem to have picked up some sense from somewhere.’ She squeezed Hermione’s hand. ‘But you do need to talk to Ron, Hermione. You need to be honest with him and let him be honest with you.’ She looked towards the dance floor, which was filling up as the music changed. ‘Come on, let’s go and dance. There’s no point in sitting around like two grumpy old ladies. Let’s go and show our grandchildren that we can still shake a tail feather.’

Hermione grinned as she stood up. ‘They won’t know what hit them,’ she said with a laugh, and led Ginny towards the dancers. They took their places between the birthday girl, Hermione’s granddaughter Susan, and Ginny’s granddaughter Alice.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Hermione didn’t say anything as she stood at the stove cooking Ron’s breakfast. He was sitting quietly, too, attempting to read the newspaper although he was having trouble because of the hangover he was nursing. Hermione broke an egg into the frying pan, then turned to look at her husband.

‘You’re looking rather better than I would have expected considering how much you downed last night.’ Her voice was a little stiff but not too disapproving.

Ron gave a small groan. ‘I still feel rough. But I think the anti-hangover potion George gave me worked — a bit, at least.’

Hermione transferred the cooked egg to the already full plate, then, smiling, placed it before Ron.

‘Maybe this will help.’ She looked at him again, shaking her head. ‘Although considering the amount you drank last night you should probably be dead,’ she said wryly. ‘Whose idea was the shots?’

Ron winced a little at the memory of the amount he had drunk the day before, then looked ruefully at Hermione, who had sat down opposite him.

‘George, I think.’

‘It’s always George,’ Hermione retorted. ‘That man’s a bloody menace.’

‘He just likes a challenge,’ Ron said, not wanting to get into an argument. He was feeling too delicate for that.

‘And you and Harry are always right up for joining him. Really, you should all know better at your age!’

‘I didn’t do anything . . . stupid, did I? I didn’t make a complete fool of myself?’ he asked carefully. The memories of the previous night were a little vague and he was suddenly worried that he might have done, or worse still, said something he shouldn’t have. His look turned a little anxious.

Hermione picked up the teapot and poured a stream of dark tea into her mug, adding milk and stirring with a teaspoon as she considered the question.

‘If by stupid you mean embarrassing, then personally I think you did okay apart from being all over the place — but you weren’t alone in that. However, I think one of your children might have a slightly different view.’ She picked up the mug and took a sip of her tea.

‘I suppose you mean Rose,’ Ron said glumly. ‘But that’s not really a surprise, is it? Everything about us embarrasses her these days.’ He cut up his sausage and took a bite, then sighed. ‘I just don’t know where I went wrong.’

Hermione finished eating the bite of the sandwich she had just taken before replying. ‘You know it’s not you, Ron. It’s Alfric.’

Ron frowned at the mention of his son-in-law, knowing that he and Hermione were on the verge of an unwelcome conversation. 

‘I know Alfric hasn’t helped matters, Hermione, but things haven’t been right between us for a while now. Not since—’ Ron broke off with a sigh.

He had always had a close relationship with his daughter, closer than his relationship with Hermione if truth be told, but that had resolutely ended with the argument they’d had the day Hermione inherited Snape’s wealth. Since then, the closeness he and Rose had shared had not only eroded but had disappeared completely. Sometimes Ron thought it was as if he didn’t know his daughter any longer.

Hermione finished the final bite of her sandwich and washed it down with tea.

‘I know you think it was because of the argument you had,’ Hermione told him gently. ‘But really she has been pulling away from you for years. There was no point in me saying anything — you know she never listens to me — but ever since she and Alfric got together she’s changed.’

Hermione left unspoken the comment that Alfric and his manipulation had changed her daughter into a heartless bitch, knowing it wouldn’t help. Even though they weren’t really talking anymore, Ron still didn’t like to hear criticism of Rose and it wouldn’t make him any more open to the conversation they needed to have.

‘You’re probably right,’ Ron replied a little glumly, not wanting an argument. He turned a page of the newspaper as he took a sip of his own tea.

Hermione looked at him across the table. Her heart was beating faster than normal as she readied herself to confront him.

‘We need to talk,’ she said quietly.

Ron ignored her for a moment, but when it became clear she wasn’t going to stop looking at him and give up, he looked up from the newspaper.

‘Perhaps later? I thought I might work on the garden . . . .’ Ron’s voice trailed away at the look Hermione gave him.

‘Please, Ronald, we need to talk now,’ she pleaded. ‘We’ve left it far too long already.’

Ron nodded although his heart was sinking. It was true, both that a talk was needed and that it was well overdue — several decades overdue, actually.

‘Let’s go into the lounge, then, we’ll be more comfortable in there,’ he replied. He picked up the teapot. ‘Do you want another cuppa?’

Hermione nodded. ‘Yes, please. Let me just clear the dishes and I’ll be right with you.’

Standing, she picked up their plates and made her way to the sink, filling the bowl with soapy water before dropping the plates into it. She thought about the conversation they were about to have. It was definitely overdue, but that didn’t make it any easier to discuss. There were so many things that had been left unsaid for too long. But as Ginny had said the time had come for both of them to say their piece and also for both of them to listen.

She dried her hands on the tea towel and hung it back up on the hook by the sink. Taking one last deep breath she headed for the lounge where Ron was waiting for her. He was sitting comfortably in his armchair, a sombre look on his face. Hermione considered for a second and then sat down on the sofa. She picked up her tea and took a sip, realising that Ron had no intention of starting the conversation; she was going to have to be the one to get it going. But how? She considered for a moment. Best to begin with the thing Ron would find least offensive and see where it went from there.

‘I really miss them,’ Hermione said miserably. ‘I know Rose and I have never had the best of relationships, but I still miss seeing her. And Hugo . . . I miss my little boy.’

Ron moved from the chair to sit next to Hermione on the sofa and put his arm around her, holding her gently. He knew she was upset at what their children were doing to them . . . or to be more precise, what their daughter was doing to them.

‘Hugo will come round, you know,’ he told her gently. ‘Before you know it he’ll be coming back to see us, and it won’t be because he’s playing spy for Rose and Alfric. Unfortunately, there’s nothing we can do about those two without me apologising to Rose for what I said that day — and I don’t believe we have anything to apologise for, so I’m not willing to do it. If Rose wants to cut us off, we have to live with that. It’s her loss in the end, and at least it hasn’t affected our relationship with the grandchildren at all.’ 

Hermione still looked miserable but she gave a small shake of her head. ‘I just wish things weren’t like this,’ she admitted.

‘I know, love. I wish I knew what happened to Rose to make her like she is, but she never confides in her old dad anymore. Things haven’t been the same between us since—’

‘You’re going to say since the argument after we visited the solicitor again, aren’t you?’ Hermione said, trying to keep the exasperation out of her voice. ‘But I told you that’s not true. If you think about it, Rose has been drawing away from you ever since she married Alfric — even before then, maybe.’

Ron looked disheartened. ‘I know you don’t like Alfric, Hermione, but he’s always looked after Rosie.’

‘So, what, you’re saying you like him?’ Hermione asked incredulously. She stared at Ron, making him feel intensely uncomfortable. ‘Do you like Alfric?’

Ron looked stunned by the question for a second but then began to shake his head. ‘I have to admit he’s not the sort of man I would have chosen for our daughter,’ he admitted. ‘But that’s who she chose, so we have to make the best of it.’

Hermione sighed. ‘That’s always been our problem, Ronald. We always make the best of every situation without talking it out properly. What we should have done was make it clear at the start of the relationship that we weren’t happy with her choice of boyfriend and make her understand why he was so unsuitable. Instead, we skirted around the issue, not even discussing it among ourselves because both of us were too worried about starting an argument; and certainly never bringing it up with her — me because our relationship was already so badly fractured I thought it might be the last straw, and you because you didn’t want to upset your spoilt princess.’

Ron looked for a moment as if he was about to protest but then seemed to think better of it and remained silent.

‘But there are so many things we haven’t talked about that we should have done,’ Hermione continued. She was fingering the letter in her pocket. The words it contained gave her the strength she needed to continue when her stomach was roiling in a way that hadn’t happened for years.

Ron looked grave. ‘It was easier to let things lie than cause more arguments. It was bad enough when we were arguing over you working. That was a really bad time. I think if we hadn’t stopped talking we might have ended up separating. As time went on it was easier not to rock the boat, although in hindsight it has created a few problems — although nothing that I’m sure can’t be sorted out eventually.’

Hermione took a sip of her tea. ‘I’m really unhappy, Ron,’ she admitted quietly.

Ron took a sip of his own tea as he stared back at her, then he nodded. ‘I know this thing with the children has upset you, Hermione, but I’ve told you, I don’t believe for one minute that Hugo will go along with Rose. He’ll make them see reason, or at least he’ll put a stop to any plans they might have for us. And once he’s done that he’ll start coming to visit again. He’s only not doing so now because he doesn’t want to be Rose’s spy.’

Hermione sighed. ‘I’m sure you’re right about that, at least I hope so. But it’s not just that — you know it isn’t.’ She looked at him appraisingly for a moment, then took a deep breath and said, ‘I miss Severus.’

Ron took her hand and gave what he hoped was a sympathetic smile, although his own heart was pounding and the butterflies in his stomach were like a whirling dervish. In all their years of not talking about things, he and Hermione had very specifically not talked about Snape.

On Ron’s side he had no interest in talking about the man who, even to this day, he still despised because of his unfair treatment of them at school. No matter how many years had passed since then, the anger and hatred were always there. And, if he was honest, that hatred had helped to colour his view of Hermione’s involvement with the man, making her already grievous crime of wanting to return to work that much worse.

But now Hermione wanted to talk about Snape, and as her husband — her support — Ron had no choice but to listen to what she wanted to say. The problem was that if she was going to finally open her heart to him, she would expect him to follow suit; and the idea of having to admit to Hermione what his life really stood for was more than a little daunting.

Part of him wanted to stop her, to keep things as they had always been between them, but he knew that would be unfair to Hermione when she so clearly needed to unburden herself of whatever it was that was making her so unhappy.

‘It must be hard for you to be without him after working together for all those years,’ he told her, hoping he sounded understanding.

Hermione clutched at the folded letter in her pocket for a moment, then withdrew it. She looked at it as she smoothed it down, then held it out to Ron.

‘You need to read this,’ she told him quietly.

Ron looked with trepidation at the letter as he reached out to take it, remembering once again Hermione’s painful reaction immediately after reading it and how she had screeched when Rose tried to look at it. He knew it contained something big . . . something important . . . and he really wasn’t sure he wanted to know, even now.

This would, at the very least, rock the status quo, would perhaps topple it completely — and what then? Would he have to lay bare his soul, too, admit to those secrets he had kept so well for the last half a century? Perhaps it was better to let sleeping dogs lie. He hesitated and then tried to push the letter away.

‘Please, Ron,’ Hermione said, her voice pleading. ‘You need to see this. You have to understand.’

With a deep breath and much misgiving, Ron took the parchment, looking intently at Hermione as he did so.

‘Are you sure?’ he asked, giving her one final opportunity to change her mind.

Hermione nodded.

Ron unfolded the parchment and slowly began to read. When he finally finished he refolded the letter and sat quietly, his brain trying to process what the contents had just told him. He looked at Hermione once more. Her face was anxious as she waited for him to react to what he had read.

‘You fancied him at the time of the award ceremony?’ he said, trying not to sound disgusted.

Hermione looked surprised. That obviously wasn’t what she had expected him to say. She gave a small shrug. ‘It was a teenage crush. I got over it pretty quickly.’

‘Only because you didn’t see him,’ Ron pointed out. He looked hurt. ‘I asked you to marry me that evening and you were lusting after Snape even then. Why did you say yes to me if you wanted him?’

Hermione gently took hold of his hand. ‘Oh, Ronald, I had an unrequited _crush_ on Snape then, nothing more. And anyway, I never expected anything to come of it. You were my boyfriend, the one I was in love with. That was real, not some stupid fantasy about a man who would never have been interested in me had he known. Why would I spend my life waiting for a fantasy when the man I loved had asked me to marry him? Do you regret asking me?’

Ron shook his head slowly although he looked a little truculent. ‘I just wish I’d known you were lusting over that greasy git when I asked you.’

‘Why? What difference would that have made?’ Hermione asked. ‘To be honest, Ron, it was never anything serious, and I never gave him a second thought once we were engaged.’

‘But you were pretty quick to get on it once you were working together,’ Ron retorted.

Hermione looked hurt. ‘It wasn’t like that . . . and anyway, you wouldn’t go anywhere near me by that time. It was long after you refused to have sex with me because I wanted to go back to work.’

‘Well, now I know why you were so eager to go back.’ Ron couldn’t keep the bitterness out of his voice.

‘Severus had nothing to do with my decision to return to work,’ Hermione retorted hotly. ‘You know full well that I went back to work several years before I started working with him. I don’t intend to have that argument with you again. It’s kept us from talking to each other properly for over fifty years. We really have to get past this now.’

‘Get past it — that was what gave you the opportunity to have an affair,’ Ron pointed out.

‘Haven’t you had affairs, too?’ Hermione asked quietly.

Ron looked at her in shock. ‘You knew?’

Hermione gave a shrug. ‘To be honest, I never knew for sure. But then I didn’t really bother looking too closely. It was just another of those things we never talked about. And I was with Severus by then and happy with how my life was.’

‘You weren’t happy before?’ Ron asked, not sure what he thought of her comment.

‘How could I be when you wouldn’t touch me?’ Hermione asked honestly.

Ron had the decency to look a little shame-faced at her comment.

‘I did wonder a few times,’ he told her. ‘But to be honest, it seemed pretty laughable as it was Snape. I thought I would have known for sure if you were. I think I thought you would have left me if there was anything between you.’

‘We purposely kept it low-key. We didn’t really go out apart from attending work events, nor did we flaunt it or let others know. For all intents and purposes everyone believed we were just work colleagues,’ Hermione said. ‘There was never really any likelihood of it ending our marriage. Severus was adamant that I not ruin the lives of the children . . . and then the grandchildren . . . and by the time he might have finally have considered it he was already dying from cancer, although I didn’t know that at the time. To be honest, I always thought if our marriage ended it would be because you left, not me. You must have thought about it, surely?’

Ron nodded his head. ‘When Katie became pregnant the second time I considered it,’ he admitted.

Hermione looked at him in shock. ‘You got your mistress pregnant? Twice? When was that? What happened to the children?’

Ron rubbed his eyes, stalling. ‘Are you sure—’ he began.

‘Yes,’ Hermione said adamantly. She squeezed his hand. ‘We need to be honest with each other, remember? No more secrets, no more heads buried in the sand — it’s time to clear the air between us for good, whatever the outcome.’ Ron still looked unsure. ‘We have to do this, Ronald. Do you want me to go first? I can tell you about Severus and how it happened if you want time to prepare yourself for your side of it.’

Ron didn’t look as if he wanted that any more than he wanted to talk about his own affairs, but Hermione was right; now they had started they needed to finish. There was no point in leaving things half-said without any explanation about why it had happened otherwise resentment was sure to build further on both sides. He nodded.

‘So, when did it start with Snape?’ he asked, trying to keep the sneer from his voice as he said the name.

‘It wasn’t really an affair to start with, not in the way you would expect it,’ Hermione explained. ‘Hugo had turned three and you and I hadn’t had sex for such a long time . . . actually, we weren’t getting on at all well. I met up with Severus and something reminded me of my crush on him from when I was at school. I’ll admit I was feeling a bit desperate and I propositioned him. It completely shocked him actually, and he turned me down flat. But the seed was sown.’

Ron gave a nasty snigger. ‘You must have been really desperate to want to shag Snape.’

Hermione looked at him tartly. ‘I told you, I already had a crush on him. Your behaviour towards me caused that remembrance to become something more. It was only supposed to be one night — that’s all I asked for.’

Ron looked disbelieving. ‘One night? I don’t believe it.’

‘It was,’ Hermione said quickly. ‘I just had a sudden urge to know what he was like as a lover. As I told you, it was part desperation, part fantasy fulfilment. And when it happened, that’s all it was — just one night. Nothing further happened between us for a couple of years.’

Ron snorted bitterly. ‘Do you really expect me to believe that, Hermione, given what I’ve just read? Do you think I’m stupid or what?’

Hermione looked upset. ‘I’m telling you the truth, Ron. What would be the point in me lying? If I do that I might as well not bother telling you at all. I asked for one night and Severus turned me down. But later he changed his mind and gave me the opportunity. You and I had just had another massive argument and I was feeling really depressed and unloved, so I took it. But it was clear at the outset that it was only a one-off, so although we continued to work together it was never brought up again, almost as if it had never happened. And after a few years that really was how it became. It was never mentioned and rarely even thought of.’

‘So how did it turn into this life-spanning affair, then?’ Ron asked, his tone making it clear that he was sceptical of what Hermione was telling him.

‘About two or three years later Severus asked me the same question — one night to explore his fantasies as he had explored mine. I agreed because by then it had become clear that you were never going to touch me again, and although my sex drive wasn’t high by any stretch of the imagination, I didn’t enjoy staying completely celibate. You had never known . . . or cared, I wasn’t sure which . . . about the previous encounter, and you were even less likely to care after all that time, so I said yes. But then you inadvertently put me in a difficult position, which completely changed everything.’

‘I did?’ Ron said, sounding confused as he tried to think back to the time Hermione was talking about. ‘What did I do?’

‘You told me to spend the week with Severus,’ Hermione told him. ‘Until that point you had always railed against me staying away for more than a couple of nights, but because you wanted to go to the Quidditch World Cup with Harry and George and because you knew I wouldn’t be pleased about that, you sweetened things by allowing me to spend a whole week on my work.’

She looked at Ron intently. ‘Even now I can still remember vividly how happy you made me when you told me I might as well work right through.’ Her face turned sad as she remembered. ‘I thought you finally understood how important the work we were doing was and accepted that I was right to carry on working. But then I realised you were just doing it for your own selfish ends and it devastated me. More than ever I needed what Severus was offering, and instead of just one night you had given us the opportunity to make it into so much more than that.

‘If it had been only one night again I think we would probably never have done anything else and the rest of our lives would have been spent purely as work colleagues. But your unknowing selfishness turned a couple of minor infidelities into a full-blown affair that ended only with Severus’ death.’

‘I thought you didn’t like sex,’ Ron admitted. ‘You never made a fuss when we stopped doing it, so I honestly thought you weren’t interested. It didn’t occur to me that it was because you were getting it elsewhere.’

‘As I said, I wasn’t to begin with. But everything between us was an argument in those days, so I gave up trying. Just like we eventually completely gave up talking to each other,’ Hermione said sadly. She waited for a moment, then said, ‘So I’ve told you about Severus. Are you going to tell me about what you’ve been up to?’

Ron could feel the blood pounding in his ears as he tried to rein in his temper. Hermione’s admission of her relationship with Snape infuriated him in a way he would never have expected. He knew that feeling this way was somewhat hypocritical considering his own behaviour; and if she was telling the truth, which of course she was, Hermione could hardly be blamed for reacting to a romantic overture from the slimy git when he had been nothing but argumentative and dismissive of her at the time.

But the truth was that it hurt to hear she had cheated on him, and worse, that she had already had feelings for the man before she and Ron had even married. It didn’t help any that the relationship had lasted almost as long as their marriage and that it was only Snape’s death that had ended it. If he was still alive Hermione would still be with the snarky bastard and might even be considering ending their marriage, trying to convince Snape that the time was right now that even their grandchildren were grown up.   

Ron thought about his own history. It was at least as bad as Hermione’s — worse, if anything, as he had fathered other children and had a string of lovers. At least Hermione had stayed with the same one. Would she be as angry as he felt right now when he told her about them, or would she just accept it as she had accepted everything else that had happened to them since they had stopped talking?

She certainly had every right to be angry, although it sounded as if her affair had started earlier than his. Whatever the case, she had a right to know; and as hard as it was going to be to tell her, Ron knew he would be as truthful with her as she had been with him. He looked up and found Hermione's warm brown eyes fixed on him expectantly. He took courage from the fact that she didn't look angry, or as if she was about to burst into tears.

He sighed heavily and thought,  _Just do it_.  
  
‘Well,’ he began, determined now to tell her everything, ‘it was a long time ago now, but as I recall it all started this one night . . . .’


	12. Chapter 12

The frank talk with Ron had helped to clear the air between them. Old resentments were finally cast away, as Hermione couldn't help but wish they could have been so many years before. But although things between her and her husband were better than they had been for many years, Hermione still wasn't happy.

Whichever way she looked at it, her life had stopped having any meaning once Severus died. Oh, she continued to take part in the various family events that had always made up her life over the years, but without time with her lover to look forward to they had lost all their sparkle and she knew she was just going through the motions.

Unable to change the habits of so many years, Hermione took to spending most of her days cooped up alone, reading her way through the many books she had kept from Spinner's End. It wasn't just potions books she had discovered. Although potions and the Dark Arts had been Severus' primary interest, he had collected many rare and interesting books on a whole range of subjects, including history, transfiguration and surprisingly, divination. This included a couple of very old spell books, one of which in particular, a handwritten tome contained in a battered-looking black leather-covered notebook, Hermione ended up returning to time and time again.

She took a sip of the tea Ron had brought her as she studied the words in the book. She took a bite of one of the custard cream biscuits that accompanied the drink, then absentmindedly brushed the crumbs from the page. The spell she was looking at was difficult, probably the most difficult she had ever come across in her entire life and included a potion that was incredibly tricky and time-consuming to make, but if she had the wherewithal to attempt to brew the potion it could be the answer to her prayers and an end to the unbearable emptiness that consumed her very soul.

It was an incredibly dangerous and probably very stupid proposition, of that she had no doubt, and for a long time she shied away from the idea, knowing how catastrophic it would be if things went wrong — and also very much aware of what she would be giving up if she actually managed to get it right. It was too big, too scary and just plain wrong.

But as more months passed and nothing got any better Hermione knew she had no choice. She could stay where she was, miserable and unfulfilled, gradually fading day by slow day, or she could take her fate in her hands and change the outcome.

Unconsciously her hand went, as it often did, to the letter still carried around in her pocket, her fingertips brushing at the slightly wrinkled parchment as her mind replayed the words it contained. It fastened, too, on the necklace that had come with the letter. Clenching her hand around the item, she drew it from her pocket and placed it on the table in front of her, examining it as closely as if it was the first time she had seen it.

The Time-Turner was exactly the same as the one she had briefly had use of during her third year at school. Then, she had needed it to get to the stupid number of classes she had chosen to take, the overachiever in her needing to excel at every subject Hogwarts had to offer. She and Harry had also used it to help rescue his godfather, Sirius, and the hippogriff Buckbeak.

She had given the Time-Turner back at the end of the year, overwhelmed by the stress of trying to cope with so much work, and she had never seen it again. She assumed that Professor Dumbledore had returned it to the Ministry of Magic and it had been destroyed along with all the others the Ministry owned during the battle against the Death Eaters that had taken place there during her fifth year at school.

But according to documents she had since discovered at Spinner's End, the Time-Turner had been kept by the Headmaster until, shortly before his death, he handed it to Severus. Hermione was unable to decide whether the gift had been a comfort or a curse for him. She understood that at some point he had been where she was now and had been through exactly what she was going through. It still remained to be seen whether she would be as strong as her lover had been in the end or succumb to temptation, even knowing what would happen.

It was more than two decades after she and Severus had become lovers that he opened his heart to Hermione, finally admitting to someone other than Albus Dumbledore his deep and abiding love for Harry's mother, Lily. Hermione had lain on the bed they shared, listening silently and utterly enthralled as Severus related in exquisite and heartbreaking detail how his entire life up until the final battle had been spent in service to first the girl, then the woman, and finally the memory of the one person in the world he truly had love for.

He told Hermione of his excitement at discovering another like himself in that godforsaken Muggle town that he called home and of the joy that teaching her about her new world had given him. That Lily liked him, too, had become more than apparent to Hermione. As the years at Hogwarts went on, their relationship became far more intimate and they had become lovers, not even the hurdle of being in opposing and warring Houses coming between them.

But there was anger, too, and hatred, as he recounted his dealings with Harry's father, James, and his best friend Sirius and to a lesser extent Remus — the werewolf who had unwittingly been the reason Severus had created the Wolfsbane potion — and also against their friend Peter, who had turned against them all and provided the opportunity for Voldemort to kill Lily and James.

Having been on good terms with Sirius, Hermione was horrified to hear of the way he had treated Severus, especially when she discovered how he had tried to kill her lover by leading him to the Shrieking Shack when Remus was a werewolf. She wasn't sure quite how to reconcile the two different Siriuses in her mind and had never really managed it, even now still a little angry with the man for endangering Severus for no other reason than pure spite.

Her heart broke a little when Severus told her of the day that had ended his relationship with Lily; the day he had called her a Mudblood when he was hurt and angry at what her Gryffindor friends had done to him. He had regretted it immediately, but for Lily the damage was done. Her beloved Severus had become far too much like his Pure-blood Slytherin colleagues and she didn't recognise him as the friend who had made her so happy when they were younger.

Hermione immediately understood how Lily had felt. She would have been shocked and heartbroken if Ron had ever called her by that disgusting name, and whilst it was desperately sad she wasn't at all surprised that Lily had broken off the relationship.

Severus had pulled no punches, either in his description of his adoration for Lily which, now that she had turned to James Potter, was completely unrequited and became epic in scale, or in relating the savagery of the things he had done in the service of the Dark Lord, desperate to achieve something that he would never gain on his own. Hermione held him tightly as he relived the pain of the night of Lily's death; the night that had turned Hermione's best friend — and Hermione and Ron, come to that — into warriors.

Shocked as she was by his attitude and his overwhelming selfishness, Hermione couldn't help but understand as she could never have done when she was younger, even if she didn't condone it, why Severus had acted as he had.

As he talked of the time after Lily's death, his voice took on a yearning quality. The desire for something he would never again have was obvious in his speech. Hermione was interested to learn of his promise to the Headmaster, and began to understand finally, why he had acted towards Harry and his friends as he had for all their time at school.

She felt, as she was sure Professor Dumbledore must have done, that it was a shame Severus hadn't wanted Harry to see the side of him that had done so much to protect her friend, even if it was only done in remembrance of Lily, but all the same she promised her lover faithfully that she would never mention it to Harry or Ron.

Hermione already knew the circumstances of her old Headmaster's death — that had come out during Severus' trial after the final battle. Arrested and put into Azkaban for being a Death Eater and a murderer, he had at first apparently refused to help himself even though his memories would have shown the true story. It was only when the portraits in the Headmaster's office all rose up and persistently harassed Professor McGonagall into having their testimonies taken in order to help the sour man that he finally revealed the truth, and from there the story had emerged of what he had done to try to save Hogwarts from Voldemort and his Death Eaters.

By the time Severus finished recounting his tale Hermione understood why he had never told her he loved her. She was sure he did, in his own way, but the only true love of his life was Lily. Hermione had a feeling that even if things continued between her and Severus, nothing would ever remove the dead woman from his heart.

Now that she was facing the reality of life without Severus, just as he'd had to face life without Lily, she began to realise what a poisoned chalice the Time-Turner might be. How many times over the years had Severus thought about using it to return to Lily, to attempt to change the outcome of their story? The spell in the book before Hermione proved that he had considered it at least once — and knowing how deep Severus' love for Lily ran, she didn't believe it was only once.

What had Professor Dumbledore hoped to achieve by giving Severus the Time-Turner? Had he expected him to use it, giving his loyal friend a reward for his years of faithful service? Or had it been yet another test of Severus' will, putting temptation in his way to see whether he would bite or still do the correct thing and stay in the present and help Harry to defeat Voldemort? Whatever the reason, Hermione couldn't help but feel that the Headmaster had been very cruel in his gift.

She bit into the other biscuit, washing it down with a mouthful of tea which was now cold. She grimaced and gave a large sigh. At the end of it all she had, still somewhat surprisingly to her, managed to replace Lily in Severus' heart, although being fair she'd had fifty years to achieve that. In front of her, if the texts were to be believed, was a way for her to return to the past and re-live her life with Severus as her partner rather than Ron. But even if it was possible, even if the potion was brewable and the spell could be cast, what she would be doing was illegal, and considering the lives she would be casting aside, completely immoral.

As she had done so many times before, she closed the book, and getting up from the table she picked up both it and the half full mug of cold tea and placed the leatherbound volume back into the stack on the bookshelf before leaving the room.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Hermione lay on the bed, the pillow once again in her arms, not quite smelling of Severus but close enough as she had washed the pillow case with the sandalwood-fragranced soap he had always used. Tears ran in rivers down her cheeks. It was now twenty months since her beloved man had left her, but to Hermione, it felt as if it was only yesterday.

The desire to see Severus once more was eating her up, and as it had done many times since his death her mind turned to the Resurrection Stone. The sensible part of her brain knew that what Harry had done — dropping the stone deep in the Forbidden Forest where it would likely never be found again — was the right and proper thing to do; that what the stone offered wasn't worth the price that went with it. But the part of her that would do anything to hear Severus' voice or feel his touch just one more time cursed Harry for his strength.

She gave a loud, mournful sigh. Still clutching at the pillow, she rolled onto her back and looked up at the ceiling. How hard must it have been for Harry to give up the stone, knowing that with it he would have not just one dead loved one but four returned to him? When she looked at it like that, even the selfish side of her felt guilty at her weakness.

But then Harry had never known his parents at all and had known Sirius and even Remus for such a short time that whilst he had undoubtedly felt love for them it wasn't the same as it was with her and Severus. They'd had over fifty years of love, and surely that made her longing understandable. Even knowing the terrible price, she could now appreciate as she never had when she had first read the tale why the second brother in the story of the Deathly Hallows had chosen to take the stone and afterward had taken his own life, unable to bear to carry on living without his dead lover.

Hermione had not yet reached the stage where suicide was an option. It made no sense to her to end her life just because she was miserable. After all, that wasn't likely to get her any nearer to Severus, she would just be dead. More especially, it seemed pointless when there were other options, however damning they might be.

But things just weren't getting any better. Her daughter still wasn't speaking to her, still furious at Hermione's refusal to allow her to look at the letter. And Hugo, fed up with his sister's bitching, was still not visiting the house, no longer willing to do his sister's or loathsome Alfric's bidding. Hermione realised that she missed the small contact that being with her children provided. Ron tried to cheer her up, bless his heart. But he knew he wasn't winning and eventually, as he had always done in the past, he retreated and left Hermione to her own devices.

She had drifted back to Spinners End. Initially, she had intended to sell the house, not wanting the reminder of the happy times with Severus that she was never going to have again. But something had stopped her from disposing of it, and now she was glad she hadn't got rid of the place.

Hermione began to repopulate the house with Severus' belongings, slowly but surely returning the house to the home it had been while he was still alive. Ron didn't try to stop her and she was sure that if she chose to move into Spinner's End permanently he wouldn't stop her then, either.

But Hermione knew, if she was honest, why she came. Spinner's End had a laboratory, a place she could brew the potion that had been plaguing her mind for months. She wasn't even certain she would be able to successfully brew the difficult draught, but there was no harm in giving it a go, just out of professional curiosity. If nothing else it would take her mind off the depression she felt every time she considered another thirty, forty or maybe even more years without Severus by her side.

And now the potion was completed. It had been hard, even more difficult than she had anticipated, taking almost three months of intricate brewing during which time she had shunned almost all her family except for Ron and Harry. They knew she was working again but had no idea on what and she didn't feel inclined to tell them, knowing what their more than understandable reaction would be if they knew. But it was done and the potion, which Hermione thought resembled Felix Felicis in some ways, stood in the middle of the workbench, in a small cork-stoppered bottle of blue glass. It had been there for a week now.

Hermione grasped the pillow more tightly, breathing deeply of the sandalwood scent. She wasn't sure who she was crying for any longer. At first it was Severus, of course, but then as she considered what she was going to do she cried for everyone else in her life: her husband, who even with all his faults was still one of her best friends; her children, who she loved but did not love; her grandchildren, who had made her later years more enjoyable than she had anticipated; and her great-grandchild, baby William, who was the cutest bundle of joy and was already turning out to be a real charmer.

And then there was the rest of her family — the Weasleys, the ever-growing clan of redheads who had been like a family to her since her earliest days at Hogwarts; and of course Harry, her best friend and the person she loved most in the world after Ron. She thought she might be crying for herself, too, and for the decision she had to make.


	13. Epilogue

Hermione looked around her. She was at the Ministry of Magic. She looked at her watch. It was almost half past eight. The ceremony was due to start any minute. She quickly checked herself in the mirror and smoothed down her beautiful turquoise evening robe, admiring herself as she did so. How young she looked. She had forgotten that she had ever been that youthful and pretty. Nervous, she left the bathroom and headed over to join Harry and Ron, who were waiting for her outside the hall, also looking younger and more fresh-faced than she remembered them being.

‘Ready?’ Ron asked, taking her hand.

Hermione nodded, trying not to squirm in Ron’s grasp. She didn’t want to hold his hand but had been given no choice.

‘Smile, Hermione, this is a happy night,’ Harry said. ‘We’ll enjoy it.’

‘I know,’ Hermione replied, trying to smile. But she couldn't help being nervous. After all, she was about to change her entire life.

She wondered if she should explain what she was going to do to her friends, especially Ron. It was after the award ceremony that he had finally taken her home and proposed to her. Surely that was already in his mind and what she was going to do would hurt him.

Hermione took a deep breath. ‘Okay, I’m ready,’ she said, still sounding anxious. She held tight to both Ron and Harry’s hands and the three of them walked through the door.

It was like an explosion, the lights of the cameras photographing the trio as they walked into the room. As they walked across the floor to the podium Hermione could see every face in the room turned towards the three of them, watching every move. Almost everyone was smiling — everyone except for Severus Snape. He was already on the stage, standing next to Kingsley Shacklebolt, the new Minister for Magic, and scowling as deeply as Hermione had ever seen him do. Her heart leapt with joy and her breath caught in her throat at the sight of him.

‘Snape looks happy, doesn't he?’ Ron said sarcastically as they walked through the room.    

‘You know he doesn't like all the attention,’ Hermione said quietly. ‘He’s probably wishing he wasn’t here.’

‘More like wishing we weren’t here,’ Harry said.

‘Why did he come, then?’ Ron asked.

‘I don't think he had a choice,’ Hermione replied sympathetically. ‘The Ministry didn't give us any choice, did they?’

The boys grunted in response. Even now, knowing everything Snape had done to help Harry, they still found it hard to be grateful. Some conflicts ran too deep to ever be fully resolved. Hermione sighed although she was trying to smile, aware of the cameras still popping away.

‘Why can't you two just try and get on with him?’ she asked. ‘Is it so difficult?’

 ‘I’m trying,’ admitted Harry, ‘but it really isn’t easy, Hermione.’

‘You talk to him if you want, but just leave us out of it.’ Ron said belligerently.

Hermione shook her head slightly. ‘Time to move on, surely?’ she murmured as they climbed the stairs to the podium.

‘Now that our guests of honour have arrived we can begin,’ Kingsley told the crowd warmly, giving the trio a beaming smile.

Hermione looked around at the other people on the stage. Amongst them were Molly and Arthur Weasley. Their children Ginny and George were there, as were school friends Neville Longbottom and Luna Lovegood and the new Headmistress of Hogwarts, Professor Minerva McGonagall. Other friends and relatives were in the room beaming at all those on the stage.

As Kingsley got ready to speak again, everyone sat down.

‘We are here this evening to pay tribute to the fine men and women who have worked hard to save our world,’ he said proudly, ‘those people who went above and beyond the call of duty to ensure that we would never again be terrorised by Voldemort.’

Hermione and the others clapped politely as the various Order of Merlin awards were given out, starting with third class, then second and finally on to their category, first class.

She clapped loudly when Severus went to collect his award, garnering a surprised look from her ex-teacher although the scowl didn’t disappear from his face. Her applause was also loud as Neville collected his award. Proving once and for all that he definitely belonged in Gryffindor House, Neville had killed the snake, Nagini, and in doing so destroyed Voldemort’s final Horcrux, giving Harry the opportunity he needed to face and vanquish the Dark wizard once and for all. In doing that he had also killed the creature that had come so close to killing the man Hermione loved, and for that alone she would be forever in Neville’s debt.

At last, she and her friends were called up and they faced another round of photographs with the Minister for Magic, to a standing ovation from the crowd. Finally, the presentation was over and everyone was seated again as Kingsley spoke once more to the room.

‘. . . And now the presentation is over, let us celebrate by taking to the floor and dancing,’ he concluded happily. A few minutes later the room was cleared of chairs to create a dance floor and a band had arrived to take the place of the people on the stage.

As soon as the music began Harry grabbed Ginny’s hand and led her to the dance floor. Hermione looked round desperately. She knew in a second Ron would try to do the same with her, and while they were dancing Severus would slip away from the function, back to Spinner’s End.

‘Not yet,’ she told Ron when he tried to take her hand. ‘I need to do something else first, I’m sorry.’

She left him watching in confusion as she headed towards Severus where he was talking quietly to Minerva McGonagall. She waited until they had finished, waiting for him to head for the door with the intention of leaving, and effortlessly cut him off before he could reach the exit.

‘Going somewhere, Professor?’ she asked with a smile.

‘I have no desire to be here a moment longer than necessary, Miss Granger,’ Snape said coldly, his scowl firmly in place. ‘I am only here at all because the Minister expressly made me attend.’

‘Please dance with me before you go,’ Hermione requested. ‘Just one dance and then I’ll let you leave.’ Her smile continued.

For a moment Snape looked as if he was going to refuse but just then there was the pop of a flashbulb. They had just been photographed together. Eventually, he gave a curt nod.

‘One dance, then, Miss Granger,’ Snape agreed graciously and offering her his arm he led her to the dance floor, although he still wore his scowl.

Hermione could see Ron looking at her in astonishment as she danced with Severus and she knew he had no idea why she was doing so. Severus was a graceful man and danced very well although she had no idea why it surprised her, for he always had done on the odd occasions when they had danced together at Spinner’s End.

It had always annoyed her that Severus seemed to excel at everything he turned his hand to. But now, as far as Hermione was concerned, there was no one in the room except for her and her lover. It was so wonderful to be back in his arms that she had to work hard not to let her emotions run away with her.

‘Are you really going to go?’ she asked Snape quietly as they danced.

‘Not that it’s any of your business, Miss Granger, but yes,’ Snape replied. ‘I detest these types of functions and wouldn't have attended in the first place had I been given any choice in the matter.’

Hermione nodded. ‘I knew that,’ she admitted sympathetically. ‘I told Harry and Ron that was why you were looking so unhappy.’

Snape looked at her but didn't say anything. Hermione wrapped her arms around him more tightly, trying not to lose herself as she inhaled his aroma. Her heart pounded with desire for the man she loved so much.

‘Can I come with you?’ she asked, looking into his black eyes to show him she was being serious.

‘What are you talking about?’ Snape sounded confused. He gave a sharp bark of a laugh. ‘Why should I take you with me, Miss Granger? I have no desire for your company and I’m sure you would have a much better evening here, celebrating with your friends.’

‘No, that’s not true,’ Hermione replied honestly, her voice still just above a whisper. ‘I really want to be with you, Severus. I want you more than anything in the world and I think you want me, too. In fact, I’m sure you do.’ She looked defiantly at him.

Snape scowled deeply at her use of his first name.

Before he could say anything in response she leaned up to whisper in his ear. ‘I want you so much, Severus. I really want us to make love.’

Her lips pressed gently against his cheek.

Just as he was about to reply she cut in again. ‘Please, Severus . . . take me to Spinner’s End with you.’

‘How do you know about Spinner’s End?’ Snape asked harshly, his face suddenly full of anger. ‘Tell me, Miss Granger.’ His grip on her was hard and painful now.

‘Take me there and I’ll tell you everything,’ Hermione promised, trying to ignore his rough behaviour. ‘Please, I can’t explain it here. It’ll take too long and I’m sure you don’t want everyone else to hear.’

Grudgingly, Snape loosened his grip on her, aware that she was right. He didn’t know how Hermione knew about his home, but acting roughly would do nothing to help him find out. But how did she know he desired her? He had never told anyone about that, had never even mentioned it out loud. And surely he would have known by now if she were a Leglimens.

He nodded curtly, and as the song finished he led her towards the door. Hermione saw Ron still looking at her in confusion but she didn’t have time to explain to him. She had to leave with Severus and he wasn’t making it easy — she had to almost run to keep up with him as it was. Once they got outside the Ministry building, Snape turned to look at her.

‘I assume you don’t know the location of Spinner’s End?’ he asked darkly.

Hermione shook her head. It wasn’t true, of course, but he was already twitchy enough about her knowledge of the place without adding the location, too. Without waiting, Snape wrapped an arm around her waist.

‘Side-along Apparition it is, then,’ he said, and they disappeared with a pop.

A moment later they were standing in the lounge of the ramshackle house that Snape called home. Hermione was vaguely surprised to see that it didn’t look much different from the first time she had visited, and that wasn’t for another thirteen years. Snape let go of her immediately on arriving as if she was a hot potato and turned to face her, glaring angrily.

‘Now, Miss Granger,’ he said icily, ‘perhaps you would care to explain how you know about Spinner’s End.’ He didn’t mention anything about his desire for her, although he was dying to know how she knew that, too. Perhaps it had just been a lucky bluff on her part, but it hadn’t sounded that way.

Hermione sat herself down in the nearest chair, debating exactly what she was going to say. She knew she was playing with fire. She had gone back in time and was completely changing history, something that was both dangerous and illegal. For this to work she had to make Severus understand about them, had to share their future. But would he believe her?

‘Sit down, please, Severus,’ she quietly requested the scowling man who was looming over her. ‘It’ll take a while and I’d feel more comfortable if you’re not towering over me angrily.’ She sounded subdued, as if she was a little scared.

Snape looked as if he was about to say something but instead, turned and headed for the drinks cabinet, pouring a large measure of brandy, first for himself and then, after some consideration, for Hermione. A moment later he settled himself in his favourite chair and looked at her with that quiet intensity she knew so well.

‘Well?’ His voice was still cold as he looked at her.

Hermione took a sip of her drink. ‘This is going to sound crazy,’ she said, ‘but I need you to listen to me, Severus, because it’s really important.’

He scowled at her use of his first name again but nodded once to show he understood. She pulled the Time-Turner from her handbag and showed it to him. His eyes narrowed as he looked at it.

‘It’s yours,’ she affirmed. ‘And I used it to be here now. But I need to start at the beginning.’

She took another sip of her drink to fortify herself.

‘In the future you and I are lovers. Not for a while yet, but after I finish college . . . after I become a Potions Mistress. We worked together on the Wolfsbane potion, changing it, perfecting it, and along the way our relationship became far more intimate.’ She blushed as she spoke, keeping her eyes focussed on Snape’s. ‘Turns out the feeling between us was mutual, and what started as a one-off became a love affair that lasted decades.’ Hermione’s voice turned sad as she remembered the end when Severus had been in hospital.

‘How many years have you come back?’ Snape asked interestedly, his voice was low.

‘Almost seventy,’ Hermione admitted.

‘I died then?’ Snape asked, his voice was curiously devoid of emotion. She could see him totting up his age.

Hermione nodded. ‘You were gravely ill, Severus. You wanted to die. I didn’t want to let you go, but you needed to.’ She could feel the tears pricking her eyes. ‘You left me the Time-Turner . . . well, everything, including Spinner’s End, in your will.’

Snape nodded once again, showing that he understood, although he said nothing. He seemed to be thinking.

‘We loved each other so much, Severus,’ Hermione said, her eyes glistening. ‘So much happy time was spent here.’

‘How long?’ Snape asked stiffly.

‘Almost fifty-five years.’ Hermione said.

‘Why did we never marry?’ Snape asked. He was frowning now.

Hermione shrugged. ‘I was already married with children, and I don’t think you would have married me anyway. I did try to convince you several times over the years that we should live together at least, but you were always adamant that I should retain my relationship with my husband and children regardless of how we felt about each other.’ She laughed sadly.

‘Married? How did this happen?’ He looked confused.

‘I married Ron.’ Hermione gave a small wry smile. ‘He asked me after the award ceremony we’ve just been at, when he took me home. I went to college in America first and trained to become a Potions Mistress, then got a job at St Mungo’s, but then when I was twenty-four I married Ron. We had two children, Rose and Hugo, but my refusal to give up work ruined our relationship. Working with you rekindled the desire I’d had for you at school and eventually, after several years, we got drawn into a romantic relationship as well as a professional one.’

She took another sip of the drink.

‘You were always keen that I should try to keep my marriage alive. As much as we adored each other there was never any possibility of us ever marrying.’ She gave a small laugh. ‘Of course, it wasn’t all one-sided. Ron and I stopped having sex before you and I became intimate and eventually he was having affairs, too. I ignored them. After all, I had you, the love of my life, so there were no grounds for complaint. I was actually surprised that he stayed with me once the children were grown. He had always wanted a large family and it turned out that he had several children elsewhere.’

She stopped to blow her nose on a tissue that she had pulled from her handbag.

‘But if we loved each other so much,’ Snape said still frowning, ‘and you and Weasley were no longer in love, why did the two of you not end your relationship?’

Hermione shrugged. ‘You wouldn’t let me break up the family. I lost that chance when I went home with Ron from the award ceremony instead of you.’

Snape looked at her with dawning understanding. ‘And so you’ve come back?’ He sounded astonished.

‘To change history, yes,’ Hermione admitted. She dug into her handbag again and removed the letter he had written to her. ‘You left me this with the Time-Turner. The solicitor gave it to me at the reading of the will. Do you want to see it?’

Snape took a large mouthful of his drink while he pondered. As crazy as Hermione’s story sounded, in his heart he knew it was true. And the idea that she had been his lover for so many years was astonishing, although not as astounding as the fact that she had literally turned back time to be with him once again. Finally, he nodded and reached out to take the parchment. Hermione silently watched him as he read.

She knew the words the letter contained off by heart. She had read it every day since she had received it, every day over the three years she had pondered whether to do as the letter said and live out the rest of her life with Ron and her family or do as she had finally chosen and return to change the past.

‘I love you so much, Severus,’ Hermione admitted when he had finished reading. ‘I couldn’t bear to be without you. I had to do this. You do understand, don’t you?’

Snape looked at her for a moment, then nodded. He put his glass and the letter on the table and left his chair to drop to his knees on the floor in front of Hermione, grabbing her hands.

‘But why?’ He seemed stunned. ‘I was never a handsome man or a pleasant one. And now—’ He indicated the livid scar across his face.

‘You are far more than how you look, Severus,’ Hermione said, becoming emotional once more. ‘You are brilliant, intelligent, talented and wonderful to be with. You can be pleasant, you’ve just got used to being a bully. That’s not who you are inside.’

‘You came back to be with me,’ Snape said again, wonderingly.

‘Yes . . . I did. Please, Severus, make love to me,’ Hermione said, pleading with him.

‘But this—’

‘Will change everything, yes.’ Hermione nodded as she smiled at him, squeezing his hands tighter.

‘But your husband . . . your children . . . .’

‘Will never have existed,’ Hermione replied quietly. ‘But that doesn’t matter. I belong to you, Severus — body, heart, and soul — for eternity,’ she whispered.

‘But how did we get together?’ Snape asked curiously. His hands were stroking hers gently, almost as if he couldn’t believe she was real.

Hermione blushed and bit her bottom lip. ‘That was me,’ she admitted. ‘I used to have such a crush on you at school. I used to fantasise about you. When I saw you again after ten years away, my desire was rekindled.’ She took hold of his hand, stroking it and examining the long fingers. ‘It was your hands that did it. They reminded me of all my fantasies, and having been deprived of sex for over two years, I propositioned you.’

Snape looked as if he was about to say something.

‘Oh, no, don’t worry. You didn’t take advantage, Severus. You turned me down flat and reminded me I was a married woman. But I left you with the offer. Just one night, that’s all I wanted — one night with you so I could discover what you were really like. Eventually, you changed your mind and we had the one night . . . well, a bit longer than that actually . . . at the Leaky Cauldron, and we explored all my fantasies.’ She looked into his dark eyes, realising that she was shaking a little.

‘It was the best night of my life,’ Hermione finished wistfully as she remembered.

‘I have fantasies, too,’ Snape said. His voice sounded thicker than before.

‘I know,’ Hermione said with a smile. One of her hands now was now stroking Snape’s cheek, not caring about the scarring she encountered. ‘We explored those, too. Your fantasies were a lot darker than mine, Severus, but ultimately more satisfying for both of us, I think. But that happened over two years after our original one night at the Leaky Cauldron. You asked me for one night a few years later and I agreed to it, but then things evolved. We came here. We didn’t want to risk being caught. You introduced me to all sorts of things I’d never even considered, let alone tried. It was wonderful.’

‘Did we explore all my fantasies?’ Snape asked sounding intrigued.

‘I’m not sure. Certainly a lot of them over the years, although maybe some of the darkest ones we might not have got to.’

‘And you were happy for me to involve you in these things?’ Snape asked, sounding a little surprised.

‘Very. I told you, I belong to you completely.’ Hermione’s voice was seductive now.

Snape pulled Hermione to him and his lips touched hers gently, much as their first kiss at the Leaky Cauldron had been. She grabbed him back as the kiss intensified, overwhelmingly happy to finally be in his arms once more.

‘Take me to bed, Severus,’ she whispered as the kiss finished.

Smiling, Snape picked her up and carried her towards the bedroom. ‘I already know I’m in love with you,’ he whispered as he laid her gently on the bed.

Hermione couldn’t stop the tears that sprang into her eyes.

‘What’s the matter, love?’ Snape asked worriedly at the sight of them.

‘I always knew, but you never said it,’ Hermione told him.

‘What — never?’ Snape sounded horrified. ‘I mean, I know I said in the letter that I hadn’t, but I assumed my memory was shot by that point because of the medication.’

Hermione shook her head. ‘Just before . . . you know, in the hospital. You told me then . . . and in the letter, of course. But I always knew.’

Snape stroked her cheek, wiping away her tears. ‘I should have said it more,’ he said gently. ‘I won’t make that mistake this time. I love you, Hermione!’

Hermione smiled at the wonderful man holding her so tightly, the feeling of love for him overwhelming her. She knew now for sure that she had made the right decision.


End file.
